


When the Night Falls

by Sakuraiai



Series: Halloween Specials [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Consensual Possession, Dark, Filthy, Fluff and Smut, Hearts, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Levi!Cas, Light BDSM, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ownership, Porn With Plot, evil cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-12-31 17:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Castiel had been stuck in Purgatory, his body swirling with the power within him, ready to come out and destroy the very being who had dragged him to his hell.He hadn't expected to meet Dean, the man with the brightest soul he had ever seen. A soul that made him eager for a taste. And he definitely hadn't expected his heart, his Cordis, to come out of him and merge itself into Dean.Now he was hungry for something entirely different...Dean always knew he was going to die.He found he had an incurable disease when he was young and had spent his entire life in hospitals. But after meeting the man in the park when he was ten, the man who had saved him from the bad men who wanted to take Sammy. He found he was feeling a lot better.But he didn't understand, why his heart suddenly yearned for the man, yearned to have him, to taste him...to eat him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So Halloween is around the corner, and I'm going to try and write a fic a day for October (at least I hope to...but I'll try my best)  
> This fic is going to be a long start to the specials, so it'll hopefully span the entire month (or longer because I suck at actually keeping any kind of schedules).
> 
>  
> 
> _Hover over Latin to see translation~!_

 

How do you…

            vanquish a demon…

                        that lies in wait…

                                    ready to consume you whole?

            What becomes…

                        your course of action…

                                    when he is there, still…

                                                ever-so-still

                                    Hoping that you will  

                                                …falter…

                                                            lose your way.

                                                Patient,

                                                            knowing that you’ll soon

                                                                        have no will to fight

                                                                                    and the feast may begin.

 

**_Prologue_ **

He ran as fast as he could through the empty streets, the darkness seeped into him, taking over his already deluded mind. His breath came out in quick pants as he looked back to the black that he left behind. The thudding of his feet slapping on the wet cobblestone ground was the only haven sound he heard in the eerie silence.

He held the blue book tighter in his arms, clutching the leather bound pages close to his chest. If this book got into the wrong hands…the world would cease to exist.

He turned the corner into a dark road, finding out too late that he shouldn’t have. It was a dead end, and he knew it was useless now to turn back.

They were here.

The street lights flickered off one by one engulfing the alley in darkness. He squint his eyes in the sudden bleak darkness, hoping, wishing he could see his pursuer, yet praying that he never would lay grace to them.

The once whistling wind had stopped altogether, but the air was frozen still. His breath came out in short puffs of moist steam that permeated into the air. He held the book tighter to his body, scrambling around on the cobblestone, trying to find a way to get out of the mess he had gotten himself into. If only he hadn't…

But it was too late for ifs.

They were coming closer. He could hear the slithering of a tail sliding across the ground, the ticking of claws against the cobblestone, the wolf like growls echoing through the alleyway as they stood hidden in the darkness. The beasts circled around the man; he could feel their presence around him.

He couldn't let them see the book. He clenched his eyes closed, wishing that something would help him get out of this alleyway and into a lit area where he could be free. But there was no other way out.

He had to.

He opened the book, noticing the sudden quietness. They had stopped, fearing the book and what it held in its depths. He lightly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

His mouth opened to form words he had already memorised. There was no need for him to read the book. The words were all in his head, yet that was what he feared the most. With his avid memory and completely greedy eagerness, he had written them down and now this was his only way to escape.

As the man chanted, a blinding light grew out from the book, illuminating the dark alleyway with its ethereal light. It returned back to the book with an audible thump as a large white orb ripped itself out from the pages and zipped out of sight into the night sky.

The book bent backwards, lifting up from the ground slightly as a hand grasped at the edges of the book. The pursuers stopped abruptly, screeching at the light and slithering back into the darkness, as the hand rose to the air, palms facing the sky. The once star filled sky overturned with darkness as clouds rolled in. The sound of thunder was almost deafening as lightening crackled to the ground a few feet away from the cowering man.

Screams of pain echoed in the alleyway as one by one, the pursuers were perished by the lightening. The thunder boomed in the skies as the clouds swayed away, as if they had never been there.

The man peered at the book through his fingers, looking at the hand that grasped the edges of the book. He tried to reach for it, wanting desperately to close it before anything happened, before the monster came out. But he was too entranced by the apocalyptic blue eyes that stared at him, swirling with such power that it immobilized him.

The hand pushed against the book, veins black, drawing along his arms, crawling over to the edges as the blue eyed man pulled himself out. A long beige sleeved arm pushed out, followed by a wide shoulder, a head of dark brown hair that fell over an inhumanly beautiful face peered out of the book as the man pushed himself out of the confined prison.

He stepped out gracefully and looked around his surroundings. His deadly gaze roved over the darkened alleyway. He smirked widely glad to finally be out of his prison, showing off a set of sharp fangs touching at his smooth lips edge.

The man could only stare in shock as he saw the monster, the dark beige trench coat swayed in the misty breeze that picked up, his curled hair brushing the upturned collars. He stood a good six feet tall, his shoulders broad and wide, looking like a predator.

“Praised be to the lord.” He whispered silently. “What have I done?”

The predator from the book snapped his attention to the man behind him, a sneer rose to his throat as he held his arm out to the cowering man.

“You have disturbed my slumber,” his voice was like gravel, grating the man’s nerves deep, making him whine pitifully at his mistake.

The man fell to his feet, holding his palms together in prayer. “My master! Castiel! I…I-I-I!”

Castiel rolled his head to the side, looking up to the moon in the distance. Black veins climbing his neck up to his face. His eyes darkened and snapped back at the cowering man.

“This is going to be so much fun…”

A scream echoed through the alleyway.

 

~~

 

The air felt a lot less crowded here, a lot cleaner. It felt a lot nicer and serene than what he was used to. The clouds were coming together and taking over the beautiful starry night sky. If he could smile he would have.

He breezed past buildings lined in a row on either side of him, his small body a bright white shining orb. The streets were completely still, not an echo of a person in sight. The moon had risen to its highest point in the sky, reflecting against the glass and bodies of the cars below. The dim street lights were the only solace of light in this over-earned darkness. He skimmed the air just above the homes, resting against the point of a large house, the only olden looking home within the contemporary vastness that surrounded both sides of the road.

_‘I've found him!’_

His gaze dropped to the sound of rampant footsteps. It was pulling him to it, nagging at him to find out who it was. He felt it before he saw it, the incessant thumping, each timed thud pulling him closer, luring him to its siren song. He stopped a few feet in front of the building and saw a pretty young boy running through the street, his grip tight on a smaller boy running behind him.

" _Cordis!_ ” He turned and saw his master, Castiel, callously standing on the roof tops, his fingers clenched in fists to his sides, anger evident in his threatening features.

But Castiel _had_ to see this.

The one called Cordis rocketed in through from his stupor and settled onto the streets where the children were running. The children could not see him, either that or they didn’t notice. Cordis stood still, excitement bubbling up inside him.

The older boy had a pretty face, and those forest green eyes, long dark blonde eyelashes that fanned over his high cheek bones, the ragged panting of his breath from his parted lips, looking back to his smaller brother as he ran.

_‘He’s pretty…and he looks delicious.’_

He saw his master watching him, wanting to see what he would do.

“Cordis.” Castiel whispered harshly, his deep blue eyes glowing in intensity against the darkness that permeated the streets. “Come to me now.”

Cordis shivered again, but paid no heed to his master. He wanted this man, and he knew that his master would want him as well. The young boy was coming closer; Cordis peered at every part of him. He shivered at the thumping of the young boys’ heartbeat.

_‘Oh…my, my. Yes…’_

Cordis saw his master had stood still, Castiel could almost feel what he could feel, even when Cordis wasn’t inside him. And Cordis knew Castiel felt the same thing he did about this boy, whoever he was.

“Don’t you dare,” But Castiel’s threat was cut short. Cordis’s mind was filled with the cherry scent of the young boy, the tanned skin and wondrous taste that he would have in him. Cordis let out a coquettish whine as he seemed to disappear into the young boy as he passed.

He…felt… _incredible._

The young boy collapsed. The younger brother was by his side almost instantly. Shaking his head, they older one looked back, hearing the sounds of someone yelling at them and skittered back to running through the streets again.

Castiel watched, angry. Three other men followed the young boys. He stepped gracefully onto the street his arms crossed over his lean built chest his curled hair glimmering in the moonlight. His defiant and predatory demeanour frightened the very life out of humans.

“You stupid thing.” He growled at his heart, narrowing his gaze. “Have it your way.”

 

~~

 

The bright full moon hung high in the sky and the young boys was gasping, out of breath. They had been running through the city streets ever since the sun had set into the horizon and they were steadily tiring out.

Why hadn’t he listened?

They were both matted with a deep sheen of sweat. He had never once looked back to the alley they had come out of, and not once had he dared to stop. They would be right there, right behind them, wanting him to stop, to stumble, to fall.

No one was going to take his little brother away. _No one!_

“Get them!” Fear stricken, he barely looked back as he pulled his little brother. They rounded the corner into another well-lit street and into the park.

“Dean…” the youngest one gasped out a breath. “I need to rest,”

Dean nodded, slowing down enough for his brother to catch his breath. “Alright Sammy, you go hide in the playhouse, I’ll keep them off our tail!”

Sam shook his head, tightening his grip on his older brothers’ arms. But Dean pushed him to the dome shaped play house in the sand box. Once he knew his little brother was safe, he quickly darted back onto the path.

Succour within the park, he made his way through the wooden fence around the play area, his eyes closed tight as he ran through the memorized path across the large children’s swing set. His small figure slammed into a large one. Dean fell back, about to hit the ground, but an arm wrapped around him in one swoop keeping him from pain.

“Leave us alone!” Dean shrieked, holding his arms into tiny fists in front of him. “You won’t take him! I won’t let you!”

Dean heard an inhuman growl; fear grew within his small frame as he looked up. The man stood tall, like a noble prince dressed completely in an oddly beige trench coat; his deep blue eyes looked at him with a sense of solace.

“I will not hurt you, small child.” His voice was deep, distant, yet it was a complete comfort to the young boy. Dean felt _safe._  He gripped onto his sleeve tighter.

“There he is!” Three large men jumped over the gate of the park and advanced to the man and the young boy. Dean shivered, clutching onto Castiel’s coat. Castiel glared at the three, his deep blue eyes glowing against the moonlight.

“Come with me.” Castiel held Dean closer to him as they disappeared into the dense forestry behind the park. He stopped a few meters into the dense and dark forest. “Do not be afraid.”

Captivated by him, he barely heard the screams descend through the thickening trees of the forest Castiel was leading him through.

“I don’t fear you.”

“Foolish thing,” He murmured, gazing down at Dean’s fingers grasping at his arm. This boy truly did not fear him. What must he have gone through to not fear someone like _him?_

“My brother—” Dean started. But Castiel held a hand up.

“Your brother is safe.” He answered, snapping his fingers. “I will have my best looking after him,”

Dean shivered a little, but nodded, trusting him. Castiel chuckled. _Trusting the monster…_

“Where may I call your home?”

The young boy smiled at his saviour, telling him that he lived opposite the park gates. Castiel fell silent, leading Dean through the recessive dark solace of the forest. Dean’s gaze never left Castiel’s as he lifted his smaller body over a small tree bark without a murmur of protest at his inability to.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said, breaking the silence.

Castiel gazed down at his, his deep blue eyes glowering in the darkness. “I am far from an angel,”

His words chilled Dean. The young boy timidly clenched onto Castiel’s fingers. Afraid of silence, he looked up at him once again.

“My name is Dean Winchester,” He said quietly, hoping that Castiel would not use the same fearing tone as he had done before. Castiel merely nodded and kept on walking. “People don’t like me because I am different.”

Castiel’s gaze darted down to Dean’s. The little boy looked crestfallen. “We are much alike,”

“We are?”

Castiel led Dean through the forestry until Dean could faintly hear the slight murmur of cars passing. The main road wasn’t too far off. Castiel bowed down to Dean and proceeded to walk away.

Dean gripped on to the back of his coat. “I want to see you again,”

“I cannot allow that, young child,” Castiel released Dean’s grip and settled back into the darkness of the forest.

Dean held back a breath. “They'll come back! They’ll take Sammy!”

“I can assure you,” Castiel said with a smirk, the memory of their agonizing screams as he killed them off, one by one, etched into his mind. “They will do no such thing,”

“They will!” Dean shrieked, running to him and wrapping his small arms around Castiel’s waist. “If not them, then others will!”

Castiel’s eyes widened at the little boys alarm, he was crying. Why? Most humans wanted nothing but to be far away from him. Yet this boy…

There had to be something more.

Awkwardly, Castiel patted him on the head, pulled him away. He narrowed his gaze to the boys’ crestfallen face.

The canopy of trees dispersed, the impending sound of cars roving back and forth made Castiel’s ears quake and his head ache. He looked up to the large square building a few feet away.

_A hospital?_

“I need to find Sammy,” He said with a sniffle. “Mum would be angry if I lost him,”

Castiel sniffed the cold winter air and scowled. They young boy was ill, there was a darkness in his soul, incurable it seemed. Such a fragile creature. So tiny, so young.

And so delicious…

Castiel’s eyes closed, he sucked in a gasp and shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this. He was going too far; this boy was making him soft. In any other situation Dean wouldn't have gotten this far.

“My brother will bring Sam here,” Castiel said, snapping his fingers again. On the other side of the street, he saw Sam with another angel, this one had blonde hair slicked back and eyes a light brown.

Dean breathed out in relief when he saw Sam was safe, sucking on a lollipop as he waved at Dean from across the street.

“I must leave you here.” Castiel said, bringing Dean’s attention to him.

Castiel didn’t understand what it was about this little boy, but he couldn't let himself kill Dean. He didn't know why. But, Dean had to survive. Cordis had chosen him…and for what? He must have had a purpose. Yet.

“Don't leave—”

Dean felt Castiel’s long cool fingers run over his fragile neck and he shivered, clenching his eyes shut. What was he…?

“ _Never_ fear me,” Castiel said his grip tightening until he could feel Dean’s pulse on the tips of his fingers. _Delicious…_ “They will not come.”

“Angel,” Dean whispered, looking deep into his eyes. “Don’t leave,”

Castiel’s smirk was sinister as he disappeared into the darkness like smoke. “I never will. For, now you belong to me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is of age.  
> Castiel can't keep himself sane any longer.

Shadows in the darkness are never really seen.

He hid among that darkness, a shadow himself, lurking even in the daylight. He didn’t know what he had gotten himself into, who had imagined giving his heard to a young boy would lead him here. Stepping out towards what would most definitely be the most deadly game he had ever played.

His skin was tanning under the kiss of the sun, and his blackened veins were almost translucent among it. But he was darkness personified, an incessant disdain of a swirl of all colours put together, mixed with death and destruction. He was tainted, corrupted, ominous and sinister.

But his heart had submitted to that beautiful call…the soft thudding sound, the scent of cherries, and the sun shining in those forest green eyes.

It was why he was here. It was why he was _always_ here, watching the sun rising in the darkened sky, illuminating the dense gloom with its almost morbid taste of revenge against the glittering moonlight.

The beauty of the meadow was enthralling in the suns vengeance, holding itself completely hostage to what dwelled within the days’ witness. The moist sunlight glimmered through the windows crafted high on the walls of the home, illuminating the dancing dust in the old two story house.

Castiel scrunched his nose against the festering scent of freshly cut grass and wood varnish, hiding almost cowardly behind one of the tall trees that circled the house. He heard the front door creak open and _he_ walked out.

He grimaced, grasping the small black umbrella closer to his shoulder, making sure no light penetrated through. He didn’t want to be seen. His eye sparkled and swirled a deep blue hue against the ephemeral rays of the sun.

 _He_ was walking out to the garden meadow, Dean Winchester, the one who owned Castiel’s heart. Dean’s gaze darting this way and that, as if he were searching for something, was he seeking Castiel? Could Dean feel him just as Castiel could feel him? Like a deep, aching in his very soul, calling out, _crying out,_ to be heard, to be fulfilled.

Castiel revelled in the canopying darkness of the trees, not daring to go any closer to the human who owned his heart. Castiel was there, stalking, hunting, waiting.

How he abhorred this place, yet he would always venture through the tapered and reclusively isolated roads, ignoring the many happy residents in the street. He wanted to watch, to wait, to see. He was waiting for the perfect time.

The time he could strike the human down and take what was rightfully his.

He ventured through such peril, such disgust, all for one person, all for _Dean Winchester._

His non-existent heart thumped wildly in his chest, his dark blue gaze lowered to the sunlight breaking through the canopy of the trees to the secluded spot. Where _he_ lay.

After Dean’s morning run, he would find this exact spot and lay resting his weary head. He always thought he was alone here, surrounded by the trees, laying back on the soft moss and leaves, the sun beating on his body as he let the morning wash over him.

Castiel made it so he was never disturbed. And he watched.

Like a stalker, he watched.

It was a peaceful and quiet morning, the birds tweeting merrily, the cool breeze whistling passed. If it weren’t for the low tinny hum of music coming from Dean’s headphones, it would have been a blissfully peaceful morning. One Castiel remembered when he was first brought onto this earth all those millennia ago.

Dean’s eyes were closed, his spiky blonde hair a contrast to his dark shirt and shorts, which had moulded to his deliciously sweaty body. _Fuck,_ Castiel was _hungry._ He yearned for a taste of that sun kissed, freckled skin on his tongue, wanting to lick the sweat and suck on his flesh. Dean laid there, arms spread wide on the green grass, his freckles shining ephemerally against the sunshine. The soft music pounding into his ear, making him sigh and sing along as he regulated his breathing.

A fallen angel.

His voice reached Castiel’s ears, and to the heavenly skies above. Castiel was sure the angels moved aside, letting that deep, rough voice call out to the heavens themselves.

Unbeknownst to Dean did Castiel listen, utterly enthralled by each mesmerising note he sang, each thud of that heart beating in his chest, the sweat drying on his skin. He watched from afar, always standing apart from the others that greeted him, like now, hiding in the shadows, much like the solitary coward he was.

Dean was his.

But he was a beauty that must be untainted, someone who should be kept untouched by the world and its subtle and incontrovertible cruelties – much like himself.

But _Dean was his._

No one was allowed to touch him, or be near to him, or thinking ill of him. Whoever did were eaten, ravished while they screamed in pain, in remorse, in utter shame of their imaginations.

Yet…Castiel himself could only hold out for so long.

It had been years, _years,_ since he had last seen, last spoken, to Dean. It felt like a millennia since he had last _touched_ Dean, felt that skin under his lips, his fingers. He wanted that heat on his tongue, _now._

His shrouded gaze watched on with a clear, almost asphyxiated interest. Beauty. Such precious, _delicious,_ beauty. Within the vast peacefulness of the small garden, Castiel walked over to him. He knelt down by Dean, knowing that the human was too preoccupied, too trusting of his always-there presence to notice he was but a few inches away.

He could gobble Dean right up, and the human would have no idea.

Dean wouldn’t see or hear of him, but Castiel’s heart was beating madly, his breath ragged as he tried to reach out to him.

How he wanted to…

Dean’s skin was so smooth over his cheek, his body open, welcoming Castiel to him, as if he were waiting too.

_…I care for you…_

_…I want you…_

_…I need you…_

Castiel’s gaze roved over that beautiful face, gorgeous with nothing but those freckles marring his skin, his closed eyes, and the thick blonde eyelashes kissing the apples of his cheeks, his straight nose and those delectable lips. Dean’s hear beat called to him like a siren’s song, thumping into his head and his heart. Castiel’s gaze darted to Dean’s neck, his nostrils flared at the delicious scent.

_…I crave you…_

He bit back a moan, watching Dean steal tiny breaths from the world. He wanted to reach out and touch the human, _his Dean,_ ever so gently with his fingertips. He wanted Dean comfortable, relaxed, reassured…

…before the feast could begin.

Dean moved, stretching ever so slightly. Startled, yet glad Dean hadn’t opened his eyes, Castiel desperately wanted to hold him, and he was dangerously close in doing just that.

Yet he knew he couldn’t, he shouldn’t.

Not yet.

But he was hypnotised. Though he knew he had to leave Dean, once again. Leave the hypnotising human there. Dean would know if he stayed. The wind picked up, and he saw Dean’s nose twitch. The hem of his shirt ruffled precariously in the soft breeze, lifting up a little around his hips and making him shiver.

Castiel watched the slip of skin, his mouth salivating, fingers itching to lean down and press into it, teeth aching to sink deep into his flesh.

But Dean would run from him.

…just like everyone else.

Leave, Castiel. You are not needed here.

He didn’t want to. He would rather spend the rest of his long life watching Dean, praying to that asshole god that Dean never opened his fantastical green eyes, just so Castiel could watch him more

_You’re turning…_

Castiel’s tongue ran over his sharp teeth, sharp enough to tear through flesh, Dean’s flesh. With a reluctant sigh, he stood, making sure not to rouse any suspicion to the man lying so very sweetly on the grass. Falling into temptation – for what else could he do – he leaned into his Dean, taking in a deep breath as he chastely touched the air by those pouting lips. Taking in his breath, his scent, his _everything._

That would have to satisfy him for how.

Castiel forced himself away, skittering passed the trees and making his way back to the spot he had started at, hiding away from the human, hidden in the shadows. Always watching. Taking an indulgent glance back at the beauty, he was glad Dean hadn’t noticed him.

But at the same time, that very thought distressed him.

Dean awoke suddenly, wrinkling his nose as he say up. Castiel watched him look around. He was muttering something to himself before he got up. He took a look around, his gaze almost zeroing on where Castiel was standing.

But it wasn’t possible. Dean didn’t know he was here.

His ears pricked at the soft murmurings, and his eyes widened. He watched as Dean made his way through the isolated meadows and into the real world.

Castiel materialised out from his position within the trees. His heart hammered deep within his chest as he slowly made his way to where his Dean was laying, the umbrella casting a ghastly shadow on the green grass.

“He knew…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, its been a while.  
> I was intending to do this over the October month, for Halloween, but that didn't happen. However, Nanowrimo in November is over, and I have some time to finish all of the fics I've started.  
> So expect more here soon~! (not gonna be systematic updates, I'm warning you now)

Dean pushed the door open to the home he shared with his little brother. Placing his keys onto the hook, he walked down the spiral staircase and deeper into his home. He saw Sam on the dining table, listening to music on his headphones as he worked on something on his laptop.

It was a normal occurrence for them, Sam poring over research and doing his assignments on his laptop – which usually went all through the night, and Dean working at Bobby's Garage to keep them afloat while he did so. If Dean was the brawn, Sammy was the brain. He was going to be a successful lawyer soon. 

Though Dean wasn't usually the one for working out or going running – that was more of a Sam thing – he felt at peace as he forced himself to move faster, go further and do better. The hot feelings he got in his chest every time he was in one place for too long, or not moving or doing something, it made him want to move. Maybe he was reaching out for something...

...or someone?

Dean rolled his eyes at the mass amount of candy and sweet wrappers he found littered around Sam. At first that had been such a weird sight to see. Sam was more of a health nut than Dean, he didn't really eat sweets or fatty foods. So, the small mountain of colourful, crinkly wrappers had been a worrisome sight. However, Dean chalked it up to 'finals munchies' and just got used to it.

However, he found candy wrappers all over the house on many occasions, and just thought it was Sam on his sugar breaks. The boy could use a break – not that he ever would take it.

"Sammy!" Dean said cheerfully, making his way to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and chugged down a good half a bottle. "I'm heading to the shower before work,"

Sam gave him a nod in acknowledgement, too ensconced in his work. Poor guy, worked too hard, but he was eagerly kicking Law School's ass right now. Dean shrugged his shoulders and got to work. Getting into the shower, he turned it on to a nice heat – wanting to soothe his aching muscles from the long run – and pulled off his sweaty shirt, throwing it into the hamper.

He paused, looking at the fogging up mirror. He looked exactly the same as he usually did, dark blonde hair, green eyes, tanned skin that was littered with freckles. And the small mark, three circles increasing in size like a ripple, right over his heart. Ever since he was young he had had that mark, that weird shape that took precedence over his chest. When he was young, he'd always press at it, but that only made his heart beat speed up and a stinging warmth take over his body.

It was confusing.

But it was even more confusing now, because every time he pressed at it, ran a nail over it, or even when his clothing brushed by it, a mini lightning bolt like feeling erupted in him, making his shiver a little. Sure, he had grown used to it, but it sometimes caught him off guard, made him pant out and...in some times, late at night, he'd want more.

Mum always said angels watching over him, maybe this was there mark?

Well, he most definitely had a perverted angel, that was for sure.

Getting into the shower, he quickly cleaned himself, working methodically, making sure not to agitate the mark too much, there wasn't much dignity in popping a boner in the middle of a shower because of a mark, after all.

Once he was done, he dried himself off and got ready for the day. He still had the rest of the day ahead of him to ponder with his thoughts.

He  _really_ didn't want to go to work. The memory of last night, of that asshole Victor Fuck face as he ordered him like a slave to fix his car, had left Dean with a horrid taste in his mouth. If the car wasn't a classic, and if Bobby hadn't given him that look, Dean would have punched Victor's light out.

Thankfully, the car would just need to be tweaked, and Victor could come pick it up and be on his merry way. 

With that happy thought in mind, he made his way to the kitchen, in hopes to make something for breakfast. Getting into the living room, he saw Sam sitting on the sofa, watching the news on TV – this was one of the lesser known breaks the moose of a man took from his work, and Dean was happy to not disturb him when he did so.

He made his way into the kitchen and took out a skillet and a few ingredients. Pancakes always made him happy, so why not make some. When the pancakes were sizzling in the pan, he heard the familiar tune on the television for 'breaking news'.

Flipping the pancake over, he hummed a tune under his breath, getting two plates out and placing them on the work top.

"Dean," Sam's voice called from the living room. Turning, Dean saw Sam looking at him, eyes wide, remote controller in hand. "Did you hear the news?"

"What happened?" Dean asked, flipping the pancakes over one more time, before sliding them onto the plate.

"Victor was found dead in the forest this morning," Sam replied.

Dean held the pancake mixture in his hand, ready to pour it into the pan for another set of pancakes, but the news halted him.

Victor was dead.

"You mean  _Victor,_ Victor?" He asked. 

That couldn't be right, he was an asshole to Dean, sure, and went against everything Dean cared for. Victor had bullied him, taunted him, and Dean had always wished he would drop dead somewhere. But now, hearing what had happened, he didn't know what to think.

"I know he pissed you off," Sam said slowly, "but what are the odds?"

Dean wanted to say the man deserved it, for everything he had done to Dean, to Bobby, hell to everyone he passed. Victor was  _not_ a nice man. He was a bad man, who sucked the joy out of anything and everything around him. And sure, a tiny morbid part of Dean was happy as his untimely demise.

But...

Sam placed the controller of the table, and reached for his plate of pancakes. "You might have an angel watching over you,"

Dean let out a breath, the mark on his chest itching, as if it knew. "You think?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Candy wrappers? A bully getting killed?  
> The plot thickens...
> 
> Next chapter...  
> Cas finally can't take it anymore...  
> Dean's in for a surprise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey...it's ya boi...  
> It's been a while.

It was definitely wrong for Castiel to visit Dean where he worked. 

He knew that.

Yet still, he stood there, in the middle of the street, like some kind of cryptic stalker, one leg cocked up on the wall behind him, hands clenching into fists as he watched Dean work. It was a fruitless attempt to be repetitive, which was the only reason why he was not rushing over to the garage and taking Dean right there and then. 

The garage was crowded, there were so many people here and there, workers, customers - Castiel could have been satisfied with any one of them. 

But the mere presence of Dean... 

Castiel didn't want anyone else, and that was a wrinkle to his problem. He had Dean, right there, yet he stayed away, sucking in stolen disease filled breaths from those lips when he slept, watching as he moved with ease the next day. Yet never taking it all. 

He hadn't fully cured Dean all those years ago, though he could have with a mere thought and a wave of his hand. But he had been selfish, taking all that he could, enough for the doctors to think he were cured, yet keeping just enough inside him so he could come visit, night after night, take away the disease and leave fresh, clean air in its wake. 

A crow cawed next to him, and his eyes were darted to its attention. His worries were pretty irrelevant compared to what Dean was going through.  

"Are you alright there?" 

Castiel nearly fumbled, his heart thudding madly as he looked up into those enticing green eyes he had been wishing to see ever since Dean was a little boy, and Castiel had had his first taste of the exquisite perfection that was one Dean Winchester. 

Dean's throat cleared. "Sir?" 

Castiel's pulse sped, and he found he couldn't speak. He had been with Dean, night after night while he slept, while he dreamt. He had listened reverently to his heart beating inside Dean, thudding in sync with Dean's own, giving him life, strengthening him and making him so perfect for Castiel.  

Yet he could not take Dean's grace now. This human was utter perfection and he should not be tainted by the demon within Castiel. 

"Hey, dude, are you lost?" Dean asked again. 

Castiel's eyes flickered down to the wrench in his grip, and his brow furrowed. Those pretty hands should be wrapped around silk, and feathers, not...not disgusting metal. He had calloused fingers, which were all sorts of wrong. If Castiel had his way, Dean should be laying in a soft and silky fluffy pillow filled bed, waiting for Castiel to take him. 

"I wanted to speak with you, in fact." Castiel said, swallowing. 

Dean paused for a moment, looking back at the garage and then to Castiel. "Right, sure," 

He ushered Castiel to the garage, popping his head to the manager - one Bobby Singer, as Castiel had seen the sign above the door of the shop - before returning to Castiel's side. 

Castiel took that moment to look around and narrowed his gaze at the customers and workers around them. He wanted them gone. And though he couldn't very well kill them all right now - there were camera's everywhere after all. He instead weaved a tale of hurriedness into their subconscious, and all too soon they slowly started leaving, one by one. 

Dean returned to Castiel, muttering at how quickly the shop emptied out, but he thought nothing of it. He motioned for Castiel to one of the smaller office rooms on the other side of the building, motioning for him to sit down on the table situated inside so they could talk. 

There was something...extreme about the man, Dean noticed. With the slight tilt of his head as he watched Dean, the raise of his eyebrows, the straight bridge of his nose. There was something sparkling in those eyes...which were all kinds of wow. Though he had a blunt jaw, tapered ears and a threatening lower lip. It was odd to think that about a person, but there was something in those lips that reminded Dean of safety, yet threatened him all the same. 

It was _menacing._

And Dean was feeling a heated clench in his stomach at that. 

He needed to pull himself together, there was no need to get all gaga over a customer, no matter how alluring he was. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto the wall, close to the door, just in case he needed to leave. 

"How can I help?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, though his heart was hammering in his chest, and for some reason he was feeling a niggling sense of anxiety. 

"Dean Winchester," Castiel said, and _wow_ , did that name sound all sorts of perfect on his lips. Dean sucked in a breath, wondering just how this man knew his full name, his tag only said 'Dean' on it. But maybe he was a friend of another customer or.. _.wow,_ this man was something else entirely. 

And Dean felt like he had known him, all of his life. 

It was an odd feeling. 

"That's me," He replied, letting out a nervous huffing chuckle, because though the man was just sitting there, in a dingy chair in front of a steel table. He sat there as if he was a king on a throne, someone to bow down to, to be revered. "Do I know you?" 

Castiel's eyes grew wide, and he sat up straighter. "Do you _feel_ like you know me?" 

_What kind of question was that?_

Dean couldn't look away, however, and something inside him twisted, his heart felt warmer, and his breath came out in gasps. His body just... _reacted_. Dean cursed himself for it, but he felt a slight tightness in his jeans. 

"I think I have seen you before," He answered, in reverent honesty, though he didn't understand why. This was weird, this was crazy. "Like from a dream or something..." 

"A... a dream?" Castiel stammered, which was rather cute. And then those lips rose in the corners and Dean was hit with something so angelic sitting in front of him, it stunned him. That smile was magnificent. "Do you...do you remember what the dreams were about?"  

"I... I don't really..." Flustered, Dean began to gesture as he spoke. That smile was...something else. "I...Look, do you wanna get your car fixed or something?" 

He was grateful he could feign confidence, because being in the presence of this man was chipping away at everything he deemed to be himself. For some odd reason, he felt nothing but safe around this man, but at the same time, he knew this man could just as easily kill him with a stare. 

Castiel smirked, seeing the tremble in Dean's body, seeing him react to the mere presence of him being there. "In all honesty, I came here to see you," 

"Me?" 

"I've had my eye on you for some time now," He said with a slight smirk, though his eyes were glistening with something so hot, it almost intimidated Dean. Almost. 

Dean's heart was doing cartwheels in his chest now, he felt like he was soaring in the air, with fear of crashing to the ground and leaving a crater so wide it would rival the Grand Canyon, and all because this man had said he'd been watching Dean? 

Shouldn't he be...worried about that?  

But he couldn't even bring himself to speak. Because everything about this man, this basic stranger Dean had seen snippets of in his dreams, and felt safe around, even right now, was still just that. _A stranger._   

"What..." he licked his lips, forcing the words out. "What are you trying to say?" 

Castiel's cheeks tinged a faint red, and he tried to string a few words, which were definitely not English, but they rolled off his tongue and made Dean smirk. 

"I..." Castiel paused then, because honestly, what was he doing here? He hadn't ever expected to see Dean again. But he had followed him to work, stood outside, staring at him, stalking him, and here they were now. And all Castiel could think of was wanting to throw Dean down onto the table and either fuck him senseless, or take him away from this all. 

"I don't know what brought me here," he said honestly, and everything that had made him scary in Dean's mind had disappeared. He looked vulnerable. This was nothing like the violent focus he had had moments before, when Dean had first seen him watching the shop. 

"...well, we are a garage," he quipped wittily. 

God damn it, his mouth was going to get this gorgeous stranger to leave! 

"Dean," Castiel started, reaching a hand out as if he wanted to touch Dean. "I feel the need to be honest with you," 

Dean leaned a little further away from Castiel, hackles raised, shoulders tense, waiting for this man -- who was definitely not just a man -- to attack. 

"I have been watching you," Castiel repeated his earlier statement. "Ever since you were a child." 

_...what?_

Dean's defenses fell straight into confusion. He didn't flinch at that, though he should have, because he was so confused about everything that was going on. It was like his heart knew this person. Every single part of his being recognised the man sitting before him. Yet he didn't know him, did he? 

"I live a dangerous life, Dean," Castiel continued, his shoulders easing as he spoke words beyond Dean's comprehension, as if he expected Dean to somehow understand. "The last time I met you, you were dying, I gave you my heart to save you," 

_What?_ Dean's hand instinctively went to his chest, where his heart was beating solidly. 

"But I was selfish," Castiel continued. "And now my heart wants you, too," 

Dean blinked, unsure what the hell he was saying.

Too many moments passed, and Castiel came to his feet. The room seemed to shrink as he made his way to the door, and Dean felt his heart shatter with each and every step he took. He suddenly had the urge to reach out to the man, to keep him in the room, close to him.

The latch to the office door slid shut with a dull sound, and Castiel stood before it, taking in a deep breath. He turned to look at Dean with heated eyes.

_Fuck..._


	5. Chapter 5

The door clicked shut, and Dean felt his heart soar at that. It had been weird,  _he_ _felt_ weird, and he wasn't sure what they were going to do now.

In some deep, dark corner of his mind, he could hear his subconscious yelling at him that this was crazy, this was dangerous. This man has been watching you since you were a child, he's a stalker, a weirdo, a crazy person.

And yet. All of that, every single part of his body – sans that little voice in his head – told him that this was...this was meant to be. And that was frightening to think. Who  _was_ this man? And just  _how_ was he making Dean feel all of these conflicting, scary, and arousing emotions all without moving so scantly, so minutely?

Dean watched, with bated breath, as the room around him was suddenly filled with so much heat, something  _raw_ and  _powerful. T_ here was a faint rushing and whooshing sound by his ears, as if someone was whispering directly into it. Words that he thought he should understand, but he didn’t recognise.

His blood pumping in his veins as the words got louder and louder. He clenched his hands to fists at his side, letting the chanting fill his thoughts. This...was the man doing this to him? Was he...casting a spell of some sort? Were witches and all those fantastical creatures even real?

No, that…that wasn’t the room or the man standing so still, so patiently in front of him. This was all Dean, it was his body that was heating up, feeling lethargic, relaxed, it was his own thoughts that were calming him down, roaring with their need for him to go, go closer, go over to the man and take what he was giving. He stumbled back onto the table, arms gripping the edge, clammy with nerves. His eyes were hazy, glazed over, so much so that he barely saw the tall, and extremely handsome man walk over to him.

And then he spoke, in that gravely timbre that made Dean shake to his very core. “I would prefer to enjoy the pleasure of your company, Dean Winchester,”

Oh, the way the man said his name, it was as if those lips were destined to say it, as if those four syllables that made his name  _belonged_  to the gorgeous man standing before him.

For a scant moment, he was paralysed - with fear or something else, he didn't know - his limbs were not reacting to the alarm bells in his head, the ones that told him ‘ _stranger dange_ r’. But looking into those eyes –  _son of a bitch_ , they were so blue! – Dean felt…well he didn’t know what it was, but it was akin to falling into a soft plush bed of feathers, or being wrapped up tight in a warm blanket, or falling into a hot bath.

He felt  _safe._

This... _this_ …whatever he was, because he was  _not_ just some  _mere_ _man_ , whatever  _he_ was, he knew exactly what he wanted. And it frightened Dean in a way that made him pant, gasping quick, short breaths as he watched the smaller man gravitate towards him.

The room was hot, his blood was pounding, and yet safety was all he felt. As if the last jigsaw piece that made his life was slotting into place, as if he was finally  _home_.

It was frighteningly intriguing.

Castiel walked over to him, long, slow steps, taking his time to get to Dean. He left the door exposed, as if giving Dean the chance to run. However, Dean didn’t want to be anywhere else but  _right_ _there_ , waiting for this enigmatic man to make his way over to him. To show how wanting he was -- which was all sorts of weird. Dean took in a brave breath, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. He settled onto the table, leaning back, one foot tucked under the other, showing he was ready.

Ready for whatever this man was going to throw at him.

Castiel turned to face him, moving with that slow cat like grace to the centre of the room. Dean, piqued by this game he was playing -- and thankful there were no cameras in the office they were in -- let his gaze wander down the man. There was something so intriguing about this stranger, he was small, but built strong. Dean spied the faint definition of toned muscles under that white shirt, and broad shoulders covered by that tacky trench coat. 

He wanted that coat off.  _Right_ _now_.

"You're not afraid of me," Castiel said, though it was more of a statement than a question. His eyebrows quirked up, and Dean felt the heat in the room grow to an immense swelter. 

Interested, he sat forward, his balance shifting so he was leaning as close as he could to the man, without leaving his post at the table. "Should I be?"

Castiel's mouth went into a grim line.

Dean tilted his head to one side in confusion, sure there was something dangerous about this man, Dean couldn't deny that. But the danger he was emitting from his very soul, it wasn't scary. It was  _hot_.

Everything about Castiel darkened then, his eyes shadowed over and his hands clenched into tight fists. 

"I should leave." he said with such a finality that it stunned Dean.

_Leave_ _?_

Dean's heart ached at that, and as if he had just been set on fire, he shot out from the table and stood directly between Castiel and the door. He placed his hand, spread wide, on Castiel's chest, forcing him to stop his motions. A shiver of a shock ran through him when they touched, which didn't go unnoticed to Castiel.

"Don't leave," Dean muttered, his voice low, as if he were wishing, rather than demanding. The heat of the man seeping in through his fingers and shocking him in a way that made him want to pant. Whatever this man was doing -- or  _not_ doing -- it was making Dean want to do all sorts of bad things to him.

Castiel paused, looking down at the hand stopping him. Still so sure that this small thing, this  _mere_  human, this  _Dean_ _Winchester_...he was Castiel's full and final. 

"Don't leave." Dean repeated, a little more bravely. His eyes travelled up to look directly into those deep blues, forcing himself not to get lost in them -- though it was so easy a task to do -- and telling this man that this -- whatever  _this_ was -- was something he wanted.

God only knew why, but he felt...he...well he wanted it. It was the only thing that made sense in this very moment.

But where do they go from here?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting heated here~!

The corners of Castiel's mouth twitched, showing possibility to Dean's request to not leave.

Dean felt his heart warm at that. he knew he wasn't in charge here, no way. He nodded over to the seat Castiel had been sitting in before, asking him to sit back down. To show how ready he was for this, he pressed his hand deeper into Castiel's firm chest, pushing him playfully. Suggestions swimming in his mind at the thought of all the things they could do in this room. On the table, the chair, the floor, against the wall.  _There were no cameras_ _in here_ _._

But Dean knew better than to poke at the man. he showed he was a flight risk, though he had stumbled and crumbled when Dean had asked for him to stay. 

Castiel sat back on the chair, his back straight, those  _fuck me_ eyes staring intensely at him, his knees spread wide, thick hands resting on his thighs, patiently waiting for Dean.

_Son of a bitch._ He looked... _fuck!_

Dean felt a course of lightning shiver through him, and he actually panted. his breath coming out quickly as if he had actually been shocked by his feelings. His heart beat jack rabbited in his chest, throat closing up, skin feeling tight and prickly. He had been waiting...for this...for too long.

"Come to me Dean," Castiel said slowly, raising his arm up, fingers gliding through the air with a come here motion.

Dean nodded, slowly making his way to Castiel. One step, two, three, until he was standing right before the man. Those fingers moved in the air again, making nonsensical patterns. The room darkened around them, until all Dean could see was Castiel, sitting there.

He absorbed it all, taking everything that made the man before him in.

"Take those filthy boots off Dean," Castiel said suddenly, his voice grated and low.

Dean stumbled at the command, but knelt down to unlace his boots. Their eyes stayed in contact, how could they not, as he slid one foot free, and then the other. His dropped his shoes to the ground. Getting up, he swept them to the side with his feet.

Castiel watched him, those eyes darkening. "I do not like you dirty, Dean."

Not knowing just what compelled him to do it, Dean reached for his jumpsuit buttons, pulling and tugging them open one by one, he was wearing a dark, and clean, shirt underneath. For some reason, he wanted to make this man happy. He wanted whatever Castiel was going to give him. He only got half way down, stopping at his waist. He looked up at Castiel then, seeing those eyes,  _fuck_ _those eyes,_ they were staring at his fingers, staring at  _him._

Castiel licked his lips, and Dean hardened.  _Fuck._

He had just a small moment of panic. Because he wasn't sure what was going to happen. Was he  _really_ going to try something here, at work? Bobby was in the building!

Yeah, but he was on the other side of the building, and with all the noises that came with working in a garage, Bobby sometimes liked to tune everything out. So, he wouldn't hear just what was happening all the way over here. unless he decided to come into the office, and even then, the door was locked.

_Stop_. Wait, stop. He wasn't seriously thinking about...

"I think that should be enough," Castiel's voice was something else entirely. Dean knew that voice alone would keep him up and help him through his lonely nights. And if he had his way, he'd never have a lonely night ever again, not with the way today was going.

Dean forced  _that_ particular thought away and slid his arms out of his sleeves, letting the top part to his jumpsuit fall around his thighs. His shirt underneath was soaked with sweat and tight on his body, but it didn't seem like Castiel minded that.Now was the time, but Dean had to will his feet to move. He was acting like some kind of scared cat. _Just go up to him and take what he's offering!_

He took in a deep breath and made his way towards Castiel. Quickly, and as smoothly as he was able to, before he could second guess just what the fuck he was doing, he placed his knee on the space by Castiel's thigh. Sucking in another quick breath, he lifted his other leg and placed his knee on the other side of Castiel's leg, straddling him on the chair.

There was something powerful about this position, sitting on such an beautiful and otherworldly being, looking down into those blue eyes. He was a little frightened of what was happening, after all, he didn't even know this strangers name. Yet at the same time, it felt  _right._ Like this was where he belonged.

Castiel's hands rose then, pressing delicately to Dean's side, keeping him in place. But other than that, he made no move. Not that he needed to, those hands on Dean's body, the heat of them, made Dean want to keen.He had  _never_ felt this way before. Especially only because of someone touching him. What the hell was happening?

"Are you frightened?" Castiel asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Dean bit back a moan, those hands on his waist were like a brand, keeping him steady, yet rocking the very foundation of everything he knew. He shook his head, because no, he wasn't frightened.  _Everything felt right._

He settled down onto Castiel's lap, sparing a glance down to see where they met. He wished they were both unclothed, wishing he knew what it felt like to have his skin touch Castiel's, or just touch the soft material of his jeans. Fuck he didn't care, he _wanted_.

It took him everything he had to not rock his body against the man.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, watching as he struggled to stay still. This was still Dean's move, though he was certain Dean knew that he was in charge. The feel of his warm skin, slick with his sweat from working with such dirty and filthy cars, he wanted to take this man away, and keep him forever.

Dean's eyes widened, and a smirk rose to those lips. And Castiel felt the heat in him ricochet to a soaring height, because yes, this is what he desired from his heart. This is what he desired from  _Dean._ Pure seduction and satisfaction, safety and presence.He wanted Dean to feel like this was where he belonged, with him, on him, under him, happy and sated. Soft and comfortable. Swathed in silks and feathers, soaked in his slick and sweat and cum. This was what he wanted, and with the way Dean was looking at him, he knew Dean felt the same.

He traced his fingertips down Dean's strong body, tugging along the neck of his shirt, and trailing down along his chest, where his heart beat oh so beautifully, down to the caving of his stomach, all the way until he reached the last button of his jumpsuit.

"Are you frightened now, my pet?" Castiel asked, adding the pet name, if only to see Dean shudder.

Dean didn't disappoint. It was so much more obvious now that Dean was sitting so pliantly on him. This was new territory for both of them, but damn it, Castiel could not,  _would not,_ stop now.

"Quit stalling," Dean replied, his voice bated and breathy.

Castiel's pulse skipped, and a smirk rose to his lips.  _Oh yes,_ this was turning out to be perfect. Who knew Dean would succumb so quickly to him.

"Maybe I am," he replied, teasingly, his fingers dipping into the heat under the jumpsuit, tripping up under his sweaty shirt until he touched the hot skin underneath.

Dean cried out at that, back curving over Castiel's body, head falling just a scant inch away from the curve of his neck. His chest rising and falling quicker now. He looked up at Castiel, eyes half lidded, pleading for the man to touch him more.

Castiel tightened his grip against Dean's sweaty skin, nails digging deliciously to the underside of his stomach, just where he knew Dean needed him. He could feel the head of Dean's hard cock pressing against his knuckles, under the cloth of his underwear. But he wasn't about to give into Dean's want right now. This was neither the right place or the time.

Dean was filthy right now, and he needed to be cleaned, purified, and left gasping and wanting, pleading and begging with more than just his eyes. Castiel lifted his other hand, touching at that raspy jaw, pulling Dean's head up, until their eyes met.

And he risked a step he knew he shouldn't have.

Castiel leaned in closer, his focus shifting from that pliant, perfect mouth, and into those half lidded eyes. He could feel Dean's chest rising and falling with all of his pent up passion, feel the heat of his cock pressed up against the back of his hand. But Dean didn't move, though Castiel knew he wanted to. He would eagerly allow Dean to grind into him, to get his satisfaction from his body, his hands.

There was no retreat for Dean, not ever since that hand touched his chest, not ever since those eyes looked at him like that. Dean was his now, completely, and he was not to touch himself, not unless Castiel allowed him to. 

But not right now, not here.

Dean was not calm. 

Castiel smiled, far softer than he was acting. Dean expression shifted then, cautious, like a simmer before a boil. It was almost subtle, had Castiel not been looking. 

And then, when the wait was turning to be too much, Castiel kissed him.


	7. Chapter 7

For one short, heart wrenching moment, Castiel thought his kiss was going to be rejected. That Dean was going to push him back and run away. That his precious Dean was finally going to come back to his stupid senses and retreat away from everything Castiel was offering him. Castiel would be ready, and willing to have Dean understand just who he was, and how much Dean would need him.

He would not survive if Castiel were to leave him, not now. Not now that Castiel had another taste of the perfection that was Dean Winchester. Castiel was drunk on him, addicted, and he wanted Dean to feel the same, to be the same, to be so devoted to one another, that nothing could, or dared to, break them apart.

So, he was surprised when Dean relaxed into him, his gorgeous eyes closing from their shock. He moaned so prettily into Castiel's mouth as if he wasn't able to get enough. His body arched beautifully, melting and moulding into Castiel. Their chests pressing together, but his fingers were tentative, as if he didn't know where to touch. Castiel would teach him, all in due time.

His kiss...those lips moved with such reverence, tongue sliding along his upper lip.Castiel inhaled him in, wanting and demanding more. Almost immediately, his obedient Dean opened up, letting out another pretty moan and moving in slow, rocking circles, over him. His cock was hard, Castiel could feel the heat of it through his jumpsuit, and he let his fingers coast over the firmness, just a little, letting Dean know what he could do, teasing him with the prospects of what could be. Dean's gasp was so lovely, so hot. And his fingers were much more confident now, grasping at his shoulders, trench coat creasing under his grip.

Dean swore into his mouth, panting breathlessly, hot and moist against his lips as he moved, scant aborted thrusts against his lap, touching and grinding where he could.

 _Yes..._ that's it my pet. Let me take care of you.

Dean swore he was seeing stars. The rasp of Castiel's tongue on his own was something so otherworldly, yet so pleasant. He moved with ease, with practice, as if he knew exactly what to do to make Dean's mind turn to mush. There was a new fascination with this kiss, the taste alone was amazing. His teeth were sharper than Dean had expected, but not so sharp that he needed to worry.

Heat erupted so quickly within Dean, and his body reacted. His cheeks burst a bright red at how wanton he was acting, grinding over a stranger, over a kiss! This was all so foreign to him, and he really didn't know what he was doing.He had _never_ felt like this before.Those thick and warm hands gripped his waist, tight and hot, just what Dean needed. They warmed his skin through his shirt. He let himself be taken over by the gorgeous blue-eyed angel, lacing his fingers into his soft hair, sinking more onto his lap.

God damn, was he interested. And he wanted this man to know. 

It seemed the angel was just as interested, hard and hot under him, grasping at his sides, nails digging through his shirt until his nails speared little welts into his sides. Dean groaned, not wanting to break the kiss for even a second.He couldn't stop the little grin that stretched across his lips. The smile broke the kiss, and for a short moment he wanted to whine, but then he saw just what he had done to the stranger, this beautiful man below him.

Castiel's eyes were wide, dark and so wild in their wonderful blue, his breathing was harsh and his lips were bruised a deep red. His already messy hair was in more disarray. He looked like a predator, and Dean was his willing prey.His head was filled with a familiar ringing, but he couldn't stop looking at Castiel. Dean wanted to lean down and kiss him again, it took every ounce of him not to rip of his shirt and just feel those fingers on his flesh, rather than through cloth. He wanted those hands on his heart, on the angel mark. 

"Pick up your phone, Dean." Castiel murmured, those fingers moving in slow, small circles on his waist, making him keen.

Wait...phone?  _What?_

The ringing...oh. That was his phone.

Reaching into his jumpsuit pocket, he fished his phone out and held it to his ear. His eyes didn't break contact from Castiel. For some reason he had a fleeting thought of Castiel disappearing if he looked away.

"H-Hello?" Dean said into the phone, trying to catch his breath from that absolutely breathtaking kiss. He cleared his throat. "Dean Winchester,"

"Dean!" Sam's voice was a shattering reprieve from whatever was happening here. "Where have you been, I've been calling you for hours now,"

 _Huh?_  Pulling his phone away from his ear, he looked at the screen and saw he did indeed have _way too many_ missed calls from his brother. But why? The time showed less than twenty minutes had passed since he and the stranger stepped foot into the office.

"I...what?" Dean sucked in a breath, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. How had Sam called so many times in such little time?  _Why_ was he calling. Worry seeped into him now. "Is everything okay? I finish work in like half an hour, do you need a ride?"

"Half an-" Sam paused, and Dean suddenly felt cold. What was happening? But Sam let out a small sound of confusion, taking in a breath. "Oh...yeah, its...no. I'm alright Dean. Just got the time wrong,"

... _just got the time wrong?_

What the fuck? Sam was acting weird – hell, looking down to where he was sitting, Dean thought he himself was acting completely weird too. But Castiel looked into his eyes again, taking away all of his worries. It was as if he understood what was happening now. Looking into those unfathomable blues, it was like they held the answers to everything.

Castiel tightened his grip on Dean's side. "Give me the phone Dean,"

Dean watched those lips move, and felt compelled to do as he said. Maybe _he_  could answer just what the hell was going on. Sure, it hadn't felt like just twenty minutes had passed – honestly, it didn't feel like any time had passed at all – but...well, the clock on his phone couldn't be wrong, could it?

Castiel took the phone from his slipping grip, and held the phone to his ear. "Samuel Winchester, my name is Castiel," - Dean let out a breath, that name was so familiar, and it warmed his heart to finally know the name of the man he had just kissed - "I believe you have been in cohorts with my brother Gabriel,"

_What?_

Dean couldn't hear what Sam was saying to him, but the smirk that rose to Castiel's lips, Dean knew it couldn't be anything but a varying tease. Just like the man himself, it seemed. Suddenly, the warm, firm strength of Castiel... _Castiel_ _..._ under him hardened as the man himself tensed up, his eyes narrowed and his lips were set in a straight line. Whatever Sam was saying to him, Castiel's reactions were quite frightening.

"Yes, I am." Castiel replied to whatever Sam's question was. "The next time you see him, tell my brother that he has a duty to uphold now, I will be speaking to him about his choice to show himself to you later."

A few moments later, Castiel handed Dean his phone back. Dean held it to his ear and heard Sam's frantic voice replaying the same words in his ear, like a mantra, over and over again.

"You're safe with him Dean, you're going to be fine."

_What was happening?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah man, what the hell IS happening?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets taken away.
> 
> Warning  
> Can be seen as dub-con, but that's not the intention. Dean may be confused, but he clearly wants it.  
> No actual sex (not yet), a little bit of choking.

_What..._

What was happening?

Dean came to consciousness very slowly. He was lying down, he noticed, on something that felt amazing. He felt a comfortable firmness below him, but his body had sunk into it. The bed, for what else could it be, was soft, sensual and _so comfortable._ Like... silk... he was laying in silk.

Son of a bitch, it was so good to be lying on something so…silky.

The last thing he remembered was sitting, straddled on a gorgeous man – _Castiel_ – while he was using his phone, to talk to his...brother. Yeah, something about brothers…

Or...something…

His lids felt heavy, and he couldn't help but let them fall close. The familiar, yet unfamiliar, scent of rain before a storm, and electricity crackling in the air, made his nose wrinkle, dropping his head to one side, he took in the enchanting scent and let it wash over him. His dreams were trying to drag him back to unconsciousness, and he was eager to let them.

He was tired...but he didn’t know why.

What had happened? How had he gotten here?

He could feel heated eyes watching him, feel them as if there were hands stroking all over his body. Like fingertips whispering a language all of their own, his nerves came alive, and he couldn’t help but force his eyes open.

Blurry gazed, he felt so relaxed, and so aroused at the same time. Looking up through the haze, he saw he was indeed on a bed, canopied by thick, netted curtains. There indeed was silk under him, and swathed around him, like tendrils encasing him in their soft and smoothness. It was so _good,_ Dean wanted to lay here, surrounded by this amazing scent, and just let the world go by.

But he had to get up; he had to know what was happening. So he forced himself to get up. His eyes opened, and his fingers flexed to fists by his sides. His body wasn’t really cooperating with him, tired from whatever he had been through. His body thrummed with exhaustion, with rest.

Castiel stood before him, hidden by the netted curtains.

He made his way slowly over to Dean, and Dean felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest. Looking down, he saw he was wasn’t wearing a shirt, but his pyjamas were soft, and warm. As least he wasn’t naked.

Though…surprisingly, he wished he had been.

Those curtains moved to the side, and Dean was caught in that sultry blue gaze. His muscles relaxed back onto the bed, as Castiel moved to him.

“You’re awake,” Castiel murmured, his voice like gravel, low and sexy, making Dean shiver in delight. “How are you feeling?”

Castiel moved over to him, his movements graceful, as he settled next to him on the bed. Those eyes roved over him, before his hands reached for his wrists, holding his hands over his head. Dean hesitated, but let the mesmerising man do as he pleased.

“Where am I?” Dean asked, noticing his voice was just as gravelly, but not in the sultry sense, but in the sore throated sense. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How did I get here?”

“You’re brother called,” Castiel explained, reached a hand to Dean’s cheek, fingers tracing lightly over his jaw. Dean shuddered as Castiel’s hand moved lower, pressing onto his jaw, thumb trailing under his Adams apple, giving it a little pressure. Those eyes were intense, watching him, waiting for him to give.

But Dean didn’t want to give. He wanted more.

Castiel smirked, the corners of his lips quirking up in mirth, as he pressed a little harder onto his neck.

“You’re in my home, my pet,” Castiel continued, letting his fingers trail lower on his body, fingertips grazing his collarbone.

Dean gasped, his body arching in ecstasy at the dominance Castiel was showing. He wanted this; he found out, he wanted to be owned by this man. He moaned a little, barely a gasp, a flush rising to his body.

Those wicked hands travelled down lower still, pausing to thumb the ripple mark on his chest. Dean felt a shudder rush through his body, lightning ricochet into ever nerve in his being. Blood pumping, he felt a tightness in his chest, cock hardening. He didn’t understand what was happening, his body just reacted. He gasped, a desirable scream stuck in his throat.

Castiel satisfied his pure sadism, coaxing out Dean’s need, as he pressed harder on that mark, arching down and pressing his lips to the outermost curve. He suckled at the risen skin, lathing it with his tongue.

Dean fell into immediate submission, unable to take it. He moaned, begging for more. More of what this man was able to give him. He…he needed this.

Castiel left him then, fingers and that wicked tongue retreating, leaving Dean feeling aching and hollow.

“Wha—?”

God, he felt lost. Like a feather in a hurricane, blown this way and that. The only thing holding him down was Castiel.

And Castiel was moving away.

Dean reached for him then, hands grasping at his shirt, tugging him back down onto the bed, into the softness.

_Dean Winchester, what the hell is wrong with you?_ He should be pushing this crazy man away. Castiel had kidnapped him, brought him to his home, undressed him and probably drugged him somehow.

_You’re safe with him Dean. You’re going to be fine._

Should he really trust what Sam had told him? That this man was safe, that he shouldn’t be afraid? He didn’t know who Castiel was – sure there was _something_ there, something deep in his heart that screamed at Dean that this was _right._

_You’re safe with him._

Dean _did_ feel safe. He felt all sorts of things alongside that safe feeling.

“Patience, my pet,” Castiel murmured. “Let me explain, first.”

Yes, yes. Explain.

But though Castiel’s words were reassuring, Dean’s body craved more. He wanted Castiel to touch him, _please just touch me._ His cock was rock hard, the silk only adding fuel to the fire. His breathing was ragged, but he sat there, patiently, though his body begged for more. _More. Please more._

As if hearing his silent plea, Castiel reached for him, placing a hand on his thigh. Dean’s legs opened of their own accord, and he flustered when Castiel chuckled.

Castiel leaned in closer, and Dean wished it was because they were going to kiss. His lips still burned from the kiss they shared before. But Castiel didn’t come too close. As if he knew what Dean wanted, but was denying him.

“Do you remember your childhood, Dean?”

Dean nodded; he remembered all of the hospital appointments, all of the doctors, the needles, and the blood transfusion…an incurable disease. All of it was shit. But then, one day, he had gotten better. The doctors had been dumbfounded, and had done more tests on him. They needed to know _how_ and _why._

If it weren’t for his aunt Ellen taking him and Sammy in, then he’d probably still be in the hospital right now, being pricked and prodded by needles.

He wanted to be pricked and prodded by Castiel… _god, he had to stop!_

Castiel hummed, settling deeper onto the bed. “Did you ever wonder how you got better so quickly?”

“The doctors said I was… _it_ was a miracle,” Dean replied, looking down to the spiral ripple mark on his chest.  

Castiel hummed again, “You _are_ a miracle, my pet,”

Dean wracked his brain, trying to force his memories to the forefront. The doctors had been one thing, but the men…those…fuck, those men who wanted Sam, who wanted to _take Sammy away from him_. He had run with Sam to the park…and…met someone…someone who made the pain go away.

Dean looked up, eyes peering questioningly into Castiel’s. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Castiel sucked in a slow breath, his fingertips pressing into the muscle of Dean’s leg, dragging downwards. He growled, loving the flexing reflex Dean was giving him, seeing the whorish look on his face from the attention he was seeking. He pressed his thumb to the back of Dean’s knees, seeing the human’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he moaned.

_Yesssss…._ Those fingers on his skin made Dean melt into a puddle. The moved down to his calves, massaging them, pressing deep into his flesh. Dean’s tense muscles loosened, and he relaxed back onto his bed. His mind shut completely, his nerves too hyper focused on the sensations Castiel was giving him.

“I gave you my heart, Dean Winchester,” he growled, nails dragging up, leaving thin welts on Dean’s pyjamas. He cupped Dean’s hard cock, squeezing the base ever so softly. He stroked up defiantly, pressing the tip of his thumb to the slit of his cock. Dean moaned, gasping at the intensity. Electricity. He thrust up into that perfectly tight tunneled hand, the movement causing Castiel's fingers to clench harder against him. Liquid heat filled him, and Dean felt his entire being centered onto Castiel.

There was only Castiel.

Those eyes were tumultuous and dark, as Castiel leaned closer, stopping a breath away. He looked at Dean then, with the same intensity. Dean felt those thick fingers, wet and slick, enter him, pushing against his hole and making him gasp. Wha...when... _son of a bitch_. Those thick and pouting lips came close to Dean's ear as his fingers sunk in deeper.

“And now I want it back,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Badum...badum...badum...  
> This is...getting to that filthy side now.  
> So be prepared...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warning again...kind of dub-con, but Dean definitely wants it...so it may seem to be like it, but it is not at all considered dubious. There is NO mind play (or whatever magical/telepathic etc that may make Dean want Cas) here. Though it may seem like it.   
> Both partners are conscious and consent to whatever is happening to them.

At the press of those cool lips against his own, Dean's eyes drifted closes. The raspy feeling of that tongue against his lips was exquisite, almost otherworldly. The heat of those fingers on his skin,  _inside_ _him_ _._ He inhaled, wanting more.  _Demanding_ more.

He settled into it, feeling so full with those thick fingers moving languidly in him, as if they didn't have a care in the world. His mouth opened in a gasp, which Castiel caught, kissing him harder still. Fascination filled him. It should have scared him how much he was feeling around this man – who was still technically a stranger – but nothing Castiel was doing was unpleasant. Dean  _liked_ how Castiel took complete control. Dean  _wanted_ it. He  _needed_ it. 

Castiel's teeth were surprisingly sharp, though they hadn't looked it. But Dean revelled in it, this was something new for him, foreign. But he wanted more!

Those fingers moved in him, just slightly, as if stating their presence, their dominance, telling Dean that this was what he was when he was here, when they were together. He was to be cared for, to be loved, to be submissive. And though a tiny part of Dean, a small voice in the back of his mind yelled at him for yielding to a man, to being  _submissive_ when all he knew is life was to be dominant, to be the independent, to be the big brother, to be strong. An even larger part of him, one that took presidence over that little voice was screaming at him that  _this._ This thing Castiel was giving him.

This was what he  _desperately_ needed.

Dean felt the heat of him, the weight of him, and the scent of him, permeate every single cell in his body. He no longer knew where he began and Castiel ended. This was... _son of a bitch,_   _those_ _fingers_  They were moving, languid, slow, just like his tongue, as if mapping out every part of Dean he could reach.

Panting, and moaning into that perfect mouth, his hands grasped at Castiel's shoulders to gain some semblance of reality. But Castiel was adamant to make him mindless. 

Dean sunk deeper onto the mattress, pinpricks of heat dancing along his skin, gasps escaping his lips, only to be swallowed by Castiel's mouth,  _those fingers! Ah! Fuck!_ He wanted to move, to show he was definitely interested, but he could barely lift his hands. 

He was...he couldn't stop the stupid grin on his face, the tightness of the coil in his stomach, the one that was screaming _'just a little bit more! Please! Don't stop!_ ' wanting desperate to unravel, wanting desperately to release. 

Whatever this man was, whatever he was doing...it was  _so good_. Some things were different -- how could they not be, this was a completely different being entirely to the random people he had been with before -- this man...oh god this man was something... _fuck!_

Sharp teeth bit hard into his slacked bottom lip, fingers of Castiel's other hand grasping at his hips, nails digging pleasantly into his thigh. And Dean let go. He no longer had control -- did he ever when he was around this man? -- and he grasped tighter at Castiel's arm, begging him silently to let him come,  _please let me come_.

Castiel leaned back then, stopping his body from continuing just as Dean was on the precipice. "I like you like this, Dean."

Dean sucked in a breath, his entire body taught. But the weight of Castiel on him stopped him from moving anywhere, from grinding down onto those thick fingers and taking what was his. He was trapped, in the best way possible, tortured on knifes edge of an orgasm.

Castiel released his hold on him completely, leaving Dean to feel cold,  _empty_. But he didn't get too far. Dean watched as Castiel tugged the tail of his shirt from his trousers, slowly, ever so fucking slowly, unbuttoning those buttons to reveal a beautiful chest.

_Wait..._

...he had a spiral on his chest too. Just like Dean did.

As if noticing what Dean was looking at, Castiel slid the rest of his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall somewhere on the bed -- or floor, they weren't really paying attention -- and crossing his strong arms over his chest. The spiral markings were definitive, smaller by some, and in a reverse to what Dean had on his chest. But they were definitely there.

_Maybe Dean had taken his heart?_

Those strong arms loosened, and Dean felt the awkward silence fall over them. He was desperate to have those hands, those fingers and that  _fucking_ _mouth_ on him again. But he needed to know about that spiral. About this hearts business.

He sat up then, body aching at the thought of being denied, cock still standing in attention, impatiently waiting for Castiel's touch. He raked his hands through his hair, forcing the ache in him down.

Maybe the movement itself had broken Castiel loose from whatever he was posturising, or maybe it was because Dean seemed to be coming out of the lusty haze the man had put him in. But Castiel's palms pressed against his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. Those fingers sliding down to his stomach, thumbs pressing into his belly button, curving around his hips, and down to his thighs. Claw like nails leaving thin marks against his flesh, making goose bumps appear on his skin.

Dean hissed, and all of his thoughts flew from his mind. His back arched, wanting to be closer to Castiel. Then Castiel's mouth pressed against his skin, and he was lost.

God, that mouth. He would never get enough. Dean reached for Castiel then, arms sliding up and hand curling behind Castiel, nails digging into his flesh. He may have been lying down, pressed so deeply onto the soft, silky plush, but he felt like he had lost all of his balance.

Castiel's hands were lighter this time, as if he were giving Dean the slow build to perfection once again. Nails dug into his thigh, trailing to his ass. They were possessive. Dean whined when those thick fingers entered him again, his hips grinding up against Castiel, wanting some relief on his cock. But Castiel's fingers didn't move this time, they stilled, filling Dean up and stretching him open for an intrusion that Dean wasn't sure would come.

"Cas..." he gasped, finding just the perfect amount of friction as he thrust his hips up again, denied the release he so desired, once again.

Castiel grunted, whispering Dean's name and pressing his lips to the curve of Dean's shoulder and neck, before sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. Dean moaned, stilling as every part of Castiel assaulted him in the best way possible. He wasn't really one for biting or being bitten, but Cas's teeth in him was something else.

"Too much?"

Dean opened his eyes -- fuck, when had they closed, he wanted to watch everything this perfect man did to him -- and let out a long breath.

"No..." he moaned, blood rushing to his head.

Castiel's eyes widened, as if he were surprised in that, though Dean didn't understand why. He doubled his efforts then, trailing bites and kisses, marking Dean's body, his skin reddening, purpling in some areas at the ecstatic assault.

Dean wanted to seduce him too, to show his affection for the man. But fuck, he couldn't move. Like jelly, his body sunk down onto the silk, as Castiel devoured him. Dean's grip on his back tightened, and his body arched when Castiel reached the place Dean wanted him to be. Castiel sucked and bit lightly at the jut of his thigh, tongue trailing down to the crease of his legs. His other hand squeezed the base of Dean's cock ever just so.

"Yes! Ca-ah! Cas!" Dean gasped, breathing heavily through his open mouth, his cheeks flushed pink. There was no mistaking the heat that spiralled through him. Their eyes met, blue penetrating deeply into green. And with another squeeze of those hands on his cock, stroking just enough to turn Dean inside and out. Dean came, so roughly, that his breath left his lungs.

_Fuck...fuck, oh...fuck_. Dean tried to remember how to breathe, how to think, that was...he could still see stars behind his eyes. His body uncooperating, shaking in the aftermath of ... _fuck_ _..._ that! How...they hadn't even...

He felt Castiel's tongue sliding over his stomach, little kitten licks at his skin. He was so out of it, so exhausted from his very soul being released from his cock, he couldn't even muster the energy to lift his head to look down. But he knew Castiel was...he was licking him clean.

_Fu_ _uuu_ _ck_ _,_  why was that so hot?

Once Castiel was done, and Dean had some semblance of his mind not being turned to complete mush. Castiel crawled up, until they were face to face. Those blue eyes stared into him again, pinning him down. There was a wolfish smile on his wettened lips.

Son of a bitch.

It didn't matter what Dean may or may not have done before tonight. He had a taste of what it was like to be with Castiel. And he knew...this was his life now.

And he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...huu, so...that was just a taster of what's to come. (no pun intended)  
> We'll get answers to everything that's happening in the next update.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean needs a nice, long bath after all of that.
> 
> Again, as a warning, no mind play or anything like that. They are both consenting adults.

Things were going way too quickly now. More so than Dean expected them to. He needed to do something about it.

But first, he really, _really_ wanted to get Castiel off. He was desperate to see the look on this gorgeous man’s face when he was at the highest point of ecstasy. But of course, Castiel had other plans. Plans that involved him leaning away, straightening Dean’s clothing, pulling his pyjamas up over his slicked hips.

“You need a bath, my pet,” he said slowly, turning around to straighten the cuffs of his pyjama bottoms. It was an odd feeling, but it warmed Dean from the inside.

But Dean wasn’t having that right now. He reached for Castiel then, taking the opening of him and tugged at his slacks, the feel of the leather belt under his fingers was warm. He saw Castiel’s back stiffen, his body tense.

Dean hesitated, not really knowing where to go from here. After all, he was still here – wherever _here_ was – in this man’s home. He didn’t know where to go if anything went bad, and he didn’t know where his clothes were, or his phone. He didn’t even know how long had passed since his last phone call with his brother.

God…he had really stopped worrying when he saw Castiel. It was like all those problems didn’t matter.

Sucking in a breath, he moved his fingers down, instead of up, fingertips tracing those tapering hips, skin smooth and muscles expansive under his fingers.

_Son of a bitch…_

He needed to kiss Castiel again, he needed to taste Castiel’s skin. So he leaned in, pressing his lips to the base of Castiel’s neck, peppering kisses across his shoulders. Castiel turned back around, forcing Dean away.  But he didn’t want to move, he wanted more. Castiel’s hands returned onto his skin. Everywhere he touched it was like the heat of the sun on a summer’s day.

He couldn’t take it. “Cas, I want…”

Much like he had done the first time they had met, Dean straddled over his lap, chests bare and flat together. He was no longer shy about getting what he wanted, rocking his way higher to fit them together.

The moans released from Castiel’s lips were sweet music, and he had to extract himself from the man, lest he make a mess of things again.

“You are filthy, Dean,” Castiel said firmly. He gripped at Dean’s hips, levelling him higher onto his body as he stood up.

Dean’s thighs slipped over Castiel’s waist, tightening his grip around those _fucking perfect_ hips. Gently, Castiel lifted Dean up, and lead him out of the bedroom. Dean heard the familiar tell-tale sound of water running somewhere, and wondered _how_ that was possible. Castiel had been with him the entire time. Was someone else in the house with them?

He didn't really get an answer, but he didn't hear anything else in the house to indicate someone else was here. Castiel escorted Dean to the large bathroom, where there was an equally large claw foot bath in the centre that looked like it could easily seat two people inside it. Dean’s heart thudded in his chest, and he was suddenly tense, frozen. The hot steam that engulfed the air was almost suffocating.

They may have just rutted together, and he had had the most intense orgasm of his life, but…this was different. This was more intimate.

“Calm yourself, my pet,” Castiel’s words were soothing as he placed Dean on his feet in front of the plush chaise pouf chair tucked into the space under the bathroom dresser – because why the hell not? Castiel looked like some long ago knight, of course he’d have a large bathroom that had a dresser in it. Frozen still, he watched as Castiel knelt down in front of him, tugging at his pyjamas and slowly, _ever so slowly_ , as if giving Dean the chance to stop this, to run away and never come back, he pulled them down. Dean stood there before him, in only his underwear – which were stained with their earlier session - not wanting to be anywhere else than _right here_.

Castiel smiled. “Sit down,” He said slowly, pushing at Dean’s middle, forcing him onto the pouf chair. He took hold of Dean’s legs, one foot at a time, kneading his knuckles into the arches of his feet, gently. Dean felt a giggle pass through his lips, those hands were strong, but so gentle. They caressed and massaged his feet, sliding up his calves, digging his fingers into the muscles there, and yet moving up and only stopping when Dean tensed as he reached his thigh.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped, feeling the moist of the air soak into his skin, or was that the feeling of those fingers on him. He gripped the wood of the chair, opening himself up to Castiel once again – finding it easy to do so now. Castiel’s palms opened, and he grasped at Dean’s hips, fingers sinking into the plush and taking a firm grip of Dean’s ass. Dean gasped, body thrusting up, cock twitching, and demanding attention. Castiel’s fingers moved up, curling under the hem of his underwear and tugging them down. Dean leaned back, the dresser top digging into the middle of his back, as Castiel peeled off his underwear. His cock jutted out, half hard at the attention Castiel was giving him.

“You are so beautiful like this,” Castiel murmured, looking deep into Dean’s eyes as he slipped the underwear from his legs.

Dean whimpered, his body feeling lax at all of the attention. He sucked in a brave breath. The air smelled sweet, like roses and blossoms, and Dean knew it was in the bath water he was going to be in. He never was one for sweet smelling shampoos and body washes, but the thought of that scent surrounding him, of Castiel _letting him have this_ made him want to sink into the heat of the water and lather in the flowery scent.

“You too…” Dean tried, wanting to see Castiel just as naked as he was.

Castiel narrowed his gaze, shaking his head. “This is _your_ time, my pet, we will get to me later,”

Dean wanted to whine at that. But Castiel looked directly at him then, and he felt all his thoughts run away with him. He would get Castiel later, he would make Castiel feel as safe, and as warm, and as satiated as he was feeling. He would make Castiel scream his name. That was a promise.

At least Castiel was shirtless, that was something. His skin was slick with sheen from the misty steam of the shower. Dean reached for him, not letting the nerves of his nakedness get to him. He placed his palms on Castiel’s shoulders, feeling the muscular heat of his tense shoulders fall to rest under his calloused fingers. Bravely, he curled his hands around Castiel’s neck, tugging him up.

Castiel leaned into him, pressing a quick, yet heated kiss onto his lips. He bit at the bottom of Dean’s lips, teeth sinking into the flesh and tugging back. Dean moaned, letting out a gasp at the feeling.  _Oh fuck,_ Cas was perfect. 

Castiel reached up, palms resting for a moment on Dean’s thigh, sliding under his legs and lifting him up, the same way he had done before. The feel of those hands on his skin was electrifying. Castiel led him across the polished tiled floor, the steam swirling and wispy around them. Dean looked over him, seeing the warm water, swirling with soapy liquid and a few bubbles, reaching all the way up to the rim of the claw foot tub. Castiel reached down, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmured, slowly easing Dean into the bath.

It was hot, but not too much. And Castiel was right, it was the perfect temperature. Every inch of his skin tingled as he was immersed into the water. Castiel helped him in, seating him lower and lower into the soft and silky feeling bubbles. This should be odd. He was not a child, he could bathe himself. Yet… _yet…_

“Oh god,” he murmured as the water sting of the too hot water eased his tired muscles. His body slowly got accustomed to the hot water, the scent of the flowers was exquisite and intoxicating, draining all of his cares away.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself here, Dean,” Castiel murmured, turning around and reaching for a cloth and a bottle of golden liquid on the dresser table. There was a large decanter there too, filled with hot water, steam releasing from the spout.

Dean hummed, too relaxed to worry. “I really am, Cas.”

Castiel paused where he stood, tightening his grip on the cloth. “You’ve been calling me Cas,”

Dean’s eyes opened, and he looked a bit sheepish. He _had_ given the man a nickname without his consent. But then again, Castiel had been calling him ‘pet’ all this time too. He thought he’d be justified for a nickname that was close to his name, not something that was just endearing. “Yeah…I can…I can stop,”

“No,” Castiel smiled, kneeling back next to the bath. He immersed the cloth into the hot water, lifting it back up and pouring a bit of the gold fluid onto it. It had a thick scent of roses in it, which made Dean smile. “I like you calling me that,”

“Oh…okay then,” he couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips at that. But he had to admit, the smile on Castiel’s face was addictive.

He watched as Castiel rubbed the cloth together, creating a rich lather that had an even thicker scent of roses to it, and reached out for it. He had expected Castiel to leave him to bathe alone, but it seemed once again Castiel had other ideas. He took the hand Dean had drawn out and ran the lather filled cloth over it.

Surprised, Dean flinched. “I can do it you know,”

“No, Dean,” Castiel’s grip on his wrist tightened, making Dean wince. But moments later, as if he realised what he was doing, Castiel’s grip lessened, but he didn't let go of his hand. “What I mean is…let me take care of you, I _want_ to take care of you,”

With a hesitant nod, Dean let him. Castiel continued running the cloth over his arm, watching as he washed between his fingers, caressing the terry cloth over his palms, his wrist, his forearms, long gentle strokes over his arms and up to his shoulders. It was so soothing, Dean fell back onto the curve of the tub, letting the gorgeous man take care of him.

_This was the life…_

Castiel rinsed the cloth into the water and continued with the other arm, lathering across his neck and chest, down over his rippling mark, which made Dean groan, the feeling of the cloth was tingling and hot. Dean let Castiel do as he pleased, feeling so safe right now. There wasn’t even an inch of sense where he felt scared, or worried, or anything other than ‘yes…this is it, this is what I want, this is what I _need_ ’.

Castiel tipped Dean's body forward, a hand across his chest, washing his back. Dean could feel his body turn slippery, silk and soft, and so _clean. He had never felt so clean._ It was more so  than just the physical feel of getting the sweat and slick and cum off of his skin, it was something mentally as well. His mind was calm, it was empty. He wasn’t thinking of work, or of how he was going to pay the bills, or of how long he had to live with this illness deep within him, of his dreams, or of the spiral mark on his chest.

 _Calm_ …he was calm, after such a long time.

Castiel reached for the rose scented gold wash once again, letting the soapy cloth caress his shoulders, the back of his neck and all the way down to the small of his back. After he was done, he reached for the decanter, tipping it and cascading it all over his body. Dean sucked in a breath as the water washed over his face. He was eased back onto the warm bath, sinking deep into the scented water.

Castiel then moved to his head, using the decanter to run water over his hair. He reached for another bottle, a shampoo, and lathered a small amount into his palm. He worked on Dean’s hair them, massaging his scalp, covering every inch of his head with the shampoo. He worked his fingers over Dean’s forehead, his ears and to his neck.

Dean let out a helpless moan, body shivering at the attention. _Son of a bitch…_ he did not know having his hair washed could feel _this good._ Oh god.  _Fuck yes.._.

Castiel continued his torment, swirling his hands free of the lather in the water. He reached for the decanter and let the warm water rinse the shampoo off his hair. Dean expected the bath to be over, slightly disappointed that this intimate moment they shared to suddenly stop. But Castiel placed a hand on his chest from behind.

“Huh?” Dean looked back, and saw Castiel reach for another bottle on the dresser, taking a handful of a sweeter smelling liquid onto his palm, conditioner probably, he lathered it up and continued his massage on Dean’s hair.

_Oh…god…yeah, that’s it…_

Whatever protest Dean may have had was completely out of the window as Castiel moved back over his body, washing his stomach, his thighs and his legs. Rinsing and massaging at his skin. Dean was already pliant, but those fingers, soothing his skin, cleaning him, made his body turn to jelly. It was when Castiel’s fingers reached his cock, methodically cleaning it the same way he had with the rest of Dean’s body, which made him tense up a little. He moved the cloth to tunnel around Dean’s length, pressing into the coarse hair at the base.

“Cas!” Dean gasped, his body not listening to reason as he hardened in Castiel’s hands. His skin a bright crimson, he scrabbled at the edge of the tub, water sloshing this way and that.

But Castiel didn’t go any further, Dean noticed. He focused on just cleaning Dean. Once he was done, he stretched his hand out for Dean to take, and lifted Dean up onto his feet. He got the shower head, turning it on so hot water streamed out of it. Dean reached for it, but Castiel’s slapped his fingers away.

“Do not dirty yourself again,” he stated clearly, letting the spray of water hit Dean’s skin.

“If it gets you giving me another amazing bath,” Dean replied teasingly, feeling so relaxed letting Castiel work on him, no longer caring that he was supporting a half hard cock in front of the half clothed man. “Then I might just have to,”

The smirk on Castiel’s lips was breath taking, more so than the feel of the water spraying on his face and hair. Once he was clean, Castiel helped him out of the tub, and once again, slapped Dean’s hands away when he reached for the towel.

“You’re gonna have to let me do something too,” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. He no longer felt the hesitation of being naked, and wet, in front of Castiel, not with the way the man had just washed him. Castiel gave him a heated look, one that made Dean feel, surprisingly, empowered. Castiel looked like he wanted to worship Dean, and with the way he had treated him ever since he got here, Dean was sure that was the case.

Castiel wrapped the soft and warm towel around him, blanketing him and slowly moving the cloth back and forth over his soft skin. There was something beautiful about the moment, letting the man love him, and take care of him. Dean moaned, as Castiel doted on him, drying him with ease. He pulled Dean out of the bathroom, and back into the bedroom, dropping him down onto the silk of the bed. It felt much more ethereal now, much more softer than it had before.

Wow…

Dean couldn’t help but run his fingers over his soft and supple skin, the scent of roses was something new, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. His masculinity had definitely dwindled to the lower numbers, but surprisingly, he didn’t care.

Castiel settled down next to him, pulling the covers up over his body, keeping him warm. He ran a second towel over his head, fluffing and drying his hair up. Dean looked up at him then, seeing the moonlight and the lamplight trip over him, cool stripes of light and shadow playing across his face, making him look like and angel…and like a demon.

Dean was enthralled.

Not of his own accord, Dean reached up for Castiel, hands warm against his jaw, pulling him in close. He desperately wanted a kiss. Thankfully, Castiel complied, tugging at the corners of the towel to pull him in close, and kissed him, barely there press of lips against lips, but heat ricochet in Dean’s body, fireworks lighting behind his closed eyes.

He had forgotten how to breathe when Castiel pulled away.

“Will you stay with me?” Castiel asked suddenly.

Eyes still closed, and body and mind feeling more relaxed and safe than anything he had ever felt before, Dean let out a low whimper. Opening his eyes, he saw a slight shine of blue and white by Castiel’s lips, as if he was sucking something in.  _What was happening?_ Was this what he had been doing? Was this how Dean had gone from being at deaths door to being healthy? Was this how Castiel had helped him? By sucking out his illness? Was Castiel even  _human?_

Dean hadn’t remembered much about the night they had first met, but he was adamant to believe what Sammy had said. He really, truly felt safe with Castiel, he felt loved.

So Dean answered lightly. “Yes. I will stay with you,”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> You may never look at peaches the same again...
> 
> Oral sex, deep throating, and use of food play.

“You look hungry, my pet,” Castiel said, and with a flick of his wrists, a plate full of thick and juicy peaches appeared in his hands. “Would you like some?”

Dean watched, enthralled as Castiel picked up a slice and took a bite out of it. A thick drop of the fruits juice traveled slowly down from the corner of his mouth to his chin. He wanted to lick that drop, to suck on the skin and leaving marks all over his mouth. But it was made all the more sweeter when Castiel swiped his tongue over the drop that slid down his wrist.

His throat suddenly felt dry. “I…”

Dean shuddered as Castiel took another, smaller bite of the fruit in his hand. He placed the plate on the side of the bed. He motioned for Dean to come closer, and Dean felt a little surprised on how easily it was for him to comply. He straddled over Castiel’s thighs, pressed his naked body into the junction of Castiel’s legs, finding he fit perfectly, as if he belonged there.

After that amazing orgasm, and that intimate bath, he didn’t care that he was naked, while Castiel was still clothed. His eyes roved over to the peach slice in Castiel’s hands, slightly surprised when Castiel pressed the fruit to his bottom lip. Dean took it into his mouth, and bit into it. The taste of peaches was sweet, yet a little tangy, as it burst on his tongue.

Castiel smiled, his lips widening in that way that made Dean shudder. “Would you like for me to give you some pie instead, Dean?”

Pie…sounded…amazing. But right now, he really wanted another peach slice. Actually, he just really didn’t want to move from his spot, and he knew that if he asked for it, Castiel would definitely bring it, but at the same time, Castiel would have to move.

And Dean did not want Cas to move away.

“We can do pie later, I want a kiss,” Dean said bravely, his eyes roving over Castiel’s bare chest, fingers pressing on the reverse spiral above his thudding heart. Fuck, that shouldn’t feel so good.

Castiel’s eyes lit with mirth, and his smile widened. He reached for another peach slice and took another big bite. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Dean’s mouth. The flesh of the peach in their mouths had a very unique and sexy taste. Dean felt himself melt for the third time that night. Cas tasted like the sweetest of peaches, and Dean found he was really starting to fall for this man.

Fuck, it should have scared him, but it really didn't. It felt like he had known Castiel for years, like he was always there. And in some weird way, Dean really believed that to be true. Cas was the angel watching over him, he was sure of it.

His hands scrabbled over Cas’s back, desperate to keep the man close. He reached for every single inch of Cas he could, grasping at his back, his hips and that perfectly pert ass. He didn’t expect Castiel to retaliate. The man was a demon, as his hands reached for Dean’s cock, fondling it with the lightest of caresses, petting and teasing him with scant movements.

It made Dean absolutely mad with want.

The plump flesh of the peach seemed to melt in their mouths, and Dean swallowed as much of the juice and pulp as he could, but the sticky, sweet rawness of it all made him grunt with pleasure. Castiel pulled back then, a small part of the peaches still pressed between his teeth, Dean watched with bated breath as he sucked it in, chewing it and swallowed.

_Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck, why is this so god damn hot?_

Castiel smirked, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Dean, if the steady hardening of his cock in those awfully wicked hands was anything to go by. Castiel reached for another peach slice again and placed it in Dean’s mouth.

“Bite,” he ordered, lifting the peach up so Dean was facing up too. And Dean did just that.

Once again, the taste of the peach was a sticky sweet. And it surprised Dean, no fruit should taste that good, or was it because it was Cas feeding him? _Son of a bitch…_ it was so sweet. Juice slipped from the corners of his mouth, down to his jaw and trailed down his throat.

Castiel’s mouth found his exposed neck then, that wicked tongue and teeth nibbling and sucking on the juice on his flesh. He pressed the wettest part of the peach he had in his hands on Dean’s skin, running the juices over the spiral mark. The sticky sweet glistened against the light, and when it curled around Dean’s nipples, Castiel’s hot mouth was there, tongue licking the juice off.

Dean gasped, mind free of anything but the feel of that raspy tongue on his skin, of those fingers scraping at his chest, digging into his flesh. The sting of it was more pleasant that Dean expected. He threw his head back, body arching into Castiel. He trembled, shuddering on Cas’s lap.

The peach moved lower, the juice stripping the peach flesh, sticking on his overheated skin. It made Dean feel all the hotter, like one of those women he had seen in those porno's who had people eat food off them. He suddenly envisioned himself naked, with Castiel sucking and biting pieces of pie off his skin. _Oh god..._

When that peach slice moved lower, pressing into his belly button, the juice oozing out and drawing a cool line down to the base of his cock, Dean moaned.

“Fuck, Cas!” He gasped into the air as that wicked tongue rimmed around his belly button, sucking on the juices that had gathered there.

Dean reached for him, fingers digging into his back and scratching lines as he arched onto the bed. He buried his fingers into Cas’s hair, cursing and moaning as that tongue trailed lower, following the line of juice, until he sucked a mark in the base of Dean’s cock.

 _“Please Cas!”_ Dean screamed, grip tightening on Castiel’s head. He felt Cas tip his head to one side, sucking on his own fingers teasingly, those blue eyes glaring up at him. “Don’t be such a tease, you asshole,”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed and Dean felt the air around him turn a little colder. Shit, he probably shouldn’t have called Cas a bad name. He squirmed, wanting desperately for Cas to touch him, but now he wasn’t sure if that was going to happen.

“Don’t test my patience, my love,” Castiel’s voice was so low, so grated, and his eyes were shining so bright a blue, Dean felt he was drowning in them.

“Sorry,” He squirmed, the pressure building up inside him. He remembered what Cas had said to him all that time before. He liked Dean wanting and begging. And though Dean wasn’t one to beg, he hated the idea of being anything but independent and strong. Who was going to see him do it other than the man before him? And Cas looked like a man who would keep his secret.

So he begged.

“Please Cas,” his voice came close to whining “ _I_ _need you,”_

Castiel’s eyes widened at that, as if he hadn’t expected Dean to crumble so quickly. Honestly, Dean was surprised himself. But he felt safe here, secure, and so loved. He had lost all of his inhibitions in this room. Castiel allowed him to feel like he could ask for anything, and he’d get it. And right now, he was desperate for those hands; _fuck that mouth,_ on his cock.

Castiel’s smile was bright, teeth and gums showing. He took a solid grip of Dean’s cock, making the man shudder. He arched back on the bed once again, unable to hold himself up.

“Is this what you’re begging for Dean?”

Castiel’s voice… _oh god_ , Dean could come from just his voice alone, whispering naughty things into his ear.

Frustration rose deep inside him, because Cas wasn’t doing anything but holding his cock in those strong hands, so he pleaded all the more. “Please, please Cas, please let me…your hands…”

Cas did one better, he dipped his head down, causing Dean’s eyes to widen with shock. He sucked in a deep breath and watched as Cas licked at the tip of his cock. Dean gasped, the peach taste pressing in his tongue. He saw Castiel’s hands reaching for another slice of peaches, and soon felt the cool liquid and soft flesh of the fruit press against the underside of his cock head.

 _Oh god,_ he was never going to be able to look at peaches the same again.

Castiel’s tongue chased the taste of the peach down Dean’s cock, sucking marks against his thigh as he sipped at the wayward juices that had dripped there. Dean couldn’t take it, nor could he move, too lost in the feeling of that mouth on his skin. Castiel shimmied down lower, sucking and licking all of the juices that had dripped on his cock, his balls and his thigh, as he did so.

“Want to come, my love?” he asked, in that fucking voice. His tongue lapped at Dean’s cock, kitten like brushes of that artful tongue against his hard flesh that turned Dean mindless with want. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,”

And then that wickedly hot, wet and sticky mouth was on his cock, taking in the head, and bobbing shallowly, up and down. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, fingers clawing into Castiel’s head.

“Yes! Yes, Cas! Ah!” Dean hissed as Castiel hollowed out his cheeks and sucked Dean’s cock into his wet heat. Dean spread his knees wider, allowing Castiel anything and everything. He didn’t care what was happening around them, or that he was covered in mushed fruit flesh, and juices. Dean wanted Castiel, he wanted whatever it was Castiel wanted to do to him, and he wanted it _bad._

As if hearing his mindless plea, Castiel slipped his cock from his mouth, hands squeezing at his balls, tongue back to licking hot pressure against his shaft. With a slow swipe, he swivelled his tongue in a thick circle at the base of Dean’s cock, running his lips along the head.

“You taste so sweet, my love,” Castiel moaned, and Dean almost came there and then. He looked down and saw Castiel’s slick red lips, and his eyes widened.

Castiel smirked, and returned to swallowing Dean’s cock in all the way down, lips stretching to take his cock all the way to the base, the head pressed against the back of his throat. And then Castiel hollowed his cheeks again, and sucked as hard as he could. Dean was mesmerised, his head thrown back and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. A scream of pure ecstasy escaped his lips, leaving his throat raw. His nails dug into Castiel’s back as he tried to…fuck…this…ah! Fuck!

The feel of those teeth lightly scraping against his length, the feel of his cock brushing the back of Castiel’s throat, drew out a long and battered groan from Dean. He couldn’t _think_ anymore. And then Castiel bobbed his head, slicking Dean’s cock until it slipped all the way out of his mouth, before sucking down and making Dean mindless all over again. And that was when Dean figured out that Cas had no gag reflex.

_Fuuuuck…_

“Please,” Dean whined, pleading for more, “Cas, please…more,”

Castiel was intent, however, on keeping it slow and steady, no matter how much Dean begged and pleaded. He was intent on making Dean sated with his stubbornly steady pace, showing Dean that _this_ was what he deserved. A slow and steady love making. They would never do hard and fast, disassociate and distant. Dean deserved love, and he was going to get every ounce of it.

But right now, Dean felt like he was losing his mind. Time stood still, the world disappeared around them, only Castiel mattered, his tongue, his mouth, his teeth, his hands, his hair, his scent.

“Ple...ase…” he tried again, his words broken, he was at Castiel’s mercy, unable to move, unable to speak, body feeling like liquid. Unable to do anything but feel the silky and slick pleasure Cas was giving him.

He felt like his orgasm was just at the tip of his fingers, just out of reach. But Castiel’s pace was still steady and slow, his cock slick with spit and precome as it glided in and out of the hot cavern and to the cool air.

He felt those thick with slick fingers at his hole, moments before they breached into him. Dean’s back arched beautifully into the air, cock shoving into that mouth, and he came, powerless to stop it, mumbling nonsensical words as he did so. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He screamed Cas’s name, again and again, and again, like a prayer, a mantra, hips bucking wildly.

“Cas…” he cried, as Castiel continued sucking him dry, draining him of everything he was giving. He saw the blue and white shine in Castiel’s mouth as he took from him again. But he was helpless to speak, instead collapsing back on the bed, trying hard to catch his breath. His body felt like water.

He barely noticed when Castiel moved, slipping his cock from that perfect mouth. Castiel rose to his knees, hands pressing to his mouth. He moaning deep as his mouth shone that wondrous blue and white again, alongside Dean's come that was seeping through his fingers. Castiel collapsed onto the bed, arms spread on the bedspread, breathing harsh as if he had come himself.

Dean was _never_ going to be able to look at peaches the same again.

Not wanting to be the only one to reach such a perfect high, Dean reached out for Castiel, dragging his body up as close as possible.

“Let me—” he tried, sitting up and itching to get his hands on the perfect body in front of him.

“No need, my love, I already have,” Castiel replied, holding a hand up to him. He peeled off his slacks to show his soiled underwear sticking to his cock. Throwing his slacks to the darkened corners of the room, before sliding in next to Dean’s pliant body. “Your taste is like ambrosia,”

Dean’s cheeks burst a bright red, but he reached for Castiel instead, intent on a cuddle session. After such a life altering orgasm, he deserved it.

“Should we take another bath?” Dean asked, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

Castiel chuckled musically. “Later, my love, we have the rest of our lives together,”

Dean felt that that was absolutely fine by him. He was definitely falling in love with this man, this angel who was watching over him, taking care of him, keeping him healthy and happy.

He was finally happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically I could finish it here, but...I don't know, what do you think?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this obviously deserved another (long) chapter (maybe the last one, maybe not...I'm not sure just yet)
> 
> Warning:  
> Size...kink? Bottom!Dean, possessiveness (well, that's a given), actual penetration here people.

Dean couldn’t help it. He wanted Castiel. He wanted the beautiful man so _badly_.

The morning had come all too quickly, though Dean had spent the majority of it sleeping soundly in Castiel’s warm and safe arms. They had come out of the bedroom, and Dean had finally gotten to see the rest of Castiel’s home.

It was beautiful, large and homey. Surprisingly, it had a large wall full of windows that let in the beautiful sun rising, Dean imagined sitting, stretched out on the plush looking rug in front of the window, letting the warm sun rays warm him in the summer. Watching the rain fall, wrapped in his lover’s arms, in the winter.

But right now, he wanted Castiel.

He was in his usual position on Castiel, straddled over his lap, just like Castiel liked him to be, rocking slow and languorously over those thick thighs. He had let the pantomime of eating breakfast continue, listening to the soft grunts and moans escape from Castiel’s lips as he fed Dean a delicious breakfast.

Cas had asked for Dean to sit on his lap while he fed him, and he was going to milk it for all its worth. He wanted Cas panting, breathless and aching. Just like Dean had been last night, just like Dean was feeling _right now_.

But now that breakfast was over, he wanted something a little tastier in his mouth. He forced himself away from his own release, before he made a mess of things, breaking their kiss with the nip of his teeth to that full bottom lip. He slipped his thighs between Castiel’s legs, one after the other, until he slid all the way to the ground, kneeling before his lover.

Castiel followed his movement, eyes half lidded by the amazing kiss they had just shared. It was refreshing to see Cas being so lost and confused, but satisfied and hazy with lust.

“Dean, my love, you don’t – _oh god_ ,”

Dean grinned, palming Castiel’s thick cock through his pyjamas, pressing the heel of his hand along the length. He knew Castiel was close to the edge, he hadn’t come at all yesterday, so Dean knew he was so close to his release. He unbuttoned those pyjamas, peeling the cloth back and curling his fists at the top of his thighs.

Castiel panted, and Dean couldn’t help himself.

He leaned forward to that amazing chest, licking and tasting his way down every rise, every valley of his skin, his hands squeezing promises into Castiel’s cock. He pressed his lips to the coarse hair at the dip of Castiel’s navel, trailing his tongue down lower and lower.

And then he reached in, getting his first touch of Castiel’s cock. Castiel held a hand over Dean’s, stilling him. Dean raised his eyes, looking deep into those unfathomable blues.

“You don’t have to, my love,”

After everything Castiel had done for him, and _to him._ Dean shook his head at the sweet words, brushing his lips over Castiel’s knuckles.

“Let me take care of you,” Dean murmured, copying Castiel’s words from last night, adding quickly. “ _My love,”_

Castiel visibly shuddered, and Dean made it a vow to continue to call him all sorts of pet names. Especially if it made him look like _that_. Castiel's hand fell away, and Dean took that as his cue to continue what he had been doing. He slowly tugged open the last button and Castiel’s cock bobbed out into the air.

_Oh, fuck._ Dean knew he’d be sore after this. But sweet merciful  _god_ , it was magnificent.

He tunnelled his hand around the thickness of Castiel’s cock, stroking the thickness of it. He couldn’t resist the urge to drag the velvet feel of it along his cheeks, hearing Castiel hiss. He saw a bead of precome escape the tip of his cock, and had the urge to taste it. Looking up, he saw Castiel’s cheeks had turned a ruddy red in colour, blush bright and fiery, eyes wide and glazed over with lust. Dean knew he probably wasn’t going to last very long.

Overcome with confidence, Dean took Castiel’s cock into his mouth, sinking down once. Salt hit the back of his tongue, fingers digging into his shoulders and the beautiful sound of his lover letting out a groan, filled with profanities in another language, panic and pleasure at the sound of his name on those lips.

Bravely, Dean swallowed him down, stroking him and milking him for all of his sweet sounds of satisfaction. _Yes, please, more, let me hear you moan my name again_. Once Castiel was done, still riding his high, Dean rose up, sucking on the last remnants of Castiel's spend. Castiel’s head had fallen back, chest rising and falling in quick gasps.

“Dean…I didn’t mean…” he swallowed; his throat wet with want, and looked down at his lover. Seeing just how affected Dean was by this. “You are just _too_ perfect, my love,”

“Now it’s time for me to play,” Dean smirked. He took hold of Castiel’s hand, and dragged him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom.

He peeled off his clothing, socks, pyjama bottoms, shirt, moving around the home as if he was so relaxed in it. Pushing the door open, he turned, walking backwards to the bed. He saw Castiel following him, dutifully pulling off his shirt and taking off his pyjamas. His movements gave Dean time to just stare at the beautiful man before him. He was still so shocked that this man was _his._ He watched as the tendons on Castiel’s forearms shifted, corded muscles of his thighs moving as he shucked off his pyjamas. The way his body move made Dean’s toes curl pleasantly.

When their eyes met, Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Castiel approached then, the bed sinking under his weight as he joined Dean at the corner of the bed. On bent knee, he leaned over until he was seated behind his love, pulling Dean closer until his back was to Castiel’s chest, arms wrapping tight around his waist.

“Cas… _oh god_ , this was supposed to be my turn,” Dean moaned, but he couldn’t help but arch his back. Castiel was taking his time in touching Dean, trailing his hands all over Dean’s body. Dean dropped his head back onto Castiel’s shoulder while those hot hands smoothed over his thighs, his stomach and his chest.

“You’re so soft, my Dean,” he whispered into Dean’s ear.

Dean turned to look at him, a low whine escaping his lips, Cas may have been shorter than him when they stood, but with the way they were seated, he could lift his head up and press his lips to Castiel’s jaw, laying sweet, open mouthed kisses on his skin.

He knew Castiel didn’t mean that as just a compliment, Dean _felt_ softer now. He was usually coming back home from work, caked in all sorts of car oils and grease, his skin feeling cracked and callous. One night in Cas’s house, and his skin was smooth, clean and soft. What would he feel like if he stayed here forever?

He gasped when Castiel’s hand trailed up his chest, brushing lightly against the mark, and circled his exposed throat, nails digging into the flesh.

“I could so easily break you in half,” Those dark words made Dean shudder, it wasn’t a threat, Castiel sounded frustrated. The muscles under him warranted no fear, only calm and safety. Dean grounded back into the thick cock pressed against the small of his back, he wanted to play too.

“You can try,” he groaned, lifting himself up just a little so he could grind down harder on Castiel’s cock, wanting him just as hot as he was.

Castiel growled, tightening his grip around Dean’s body and neck, making Dean moan so prettily.

“Testing me, are you?” He murmured darkly into Dean’s ear.

Dean shuddered, the heated breath moistening his body. “Teasing, _my love,”_

He felt Castiel shudder under him, and smirked. His eyes fluttered shut, showing Castiel he was not scared of him. He felt nothing but safe in this mans’ arms. His heart was pounding for a different reason entirely. He reached up, lacing his fingers through Castiel’s ones around his neck, pulling them a little lower, pressing them against the mark they both shared. They both grunted, feeling the electric shock shudder through them both at the mere touch.

 But Dean had other plans; he continued his grip on Castiel’s hand, trailing his hands down until they reached his cock.

“You asked for it,” Castiel growled.

There was a moment of promise, both holding their breath as the thought of what they were going to do. They had already done this, countless of times now it seemed. But this was _Dean_ _wanting it,_ Castiel worked on Dean’s hard cock with care, pressing and squeezing and stroking with slow, languid movements, exploring each and every sound that escaped from Dean’s lips.

“I cannot believe you’re finally here,” he said, and for a moment Dean had to pause at the reverence in his words.

“I’ll always be here,” He replied, tilting his hips into the loose tunnel of Castiel’s hands, urging him to continue his torment. He didn’t know what brought him to say it, but he knew it to be true. This wasn’t just sex, or whatever fantasy they wanted. This was something so much more.

The words seemed to please Castiel, because he trailed his other hand from Dean’s hip, trailing it lower and lower until he reached where he wanted to. Dean really didn’t understand how he slicked his fingers without moving towards any kind of lube, but as those fingers penetrated his hole, he felt the cool lube spread over him.

“Yes, Cas,” he moaned, moving as slow as Cas was. “I want you, so bad.”

Castiel groaned, and Dean felt the rumble in his chest. Those thick fingers moved, slipping in deeper and deeper. Dean writhed on his hands, mindless at what to do. Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s throat, sucking roughly at his skin.

“Do you want me inside you, my pet?” He asked, nipping his sharp teeth at the soft part of Dean’s ear, hearing his lover let out a choked moan. “Think you can take me?”

Dean growled, twisting around to face him, he reached for Castiel’s head, arching up until he reached his lovers ear, whispering promisingly. “I’ll take it all,”

He felt lightning crackle between them, deep and strong as they stared at one another. Dean’s hands slipped away from him, as did Castiel’s. But Dean got the message, he turned in Castiel’s hold, swinging his legs over Castiel’s lap, knees on either side, just like he preferred them to be.

Dean loved this position of power, and he loved that Castiel was letting him take the lead here. He rolled his hips, their cocks brushing together just so, _shamelessly_. Castiel’s hands dug into his ass, finger prodding and pressing into his hole, stretching him open as slowly, yet as urgently as he was able to.

Dean’s back arched as those masterful fingers worked on him. “Need you now,” he groaned out, rutting their lengths together, trapped in a space where the aborted thrusts were just as good as the thick fingers sinking deeper into him.

But he wanted something bigger.

“I’ll give you whatever you desire,” Castiel replied, and Dean was a little smug that he sounded just as worked up as he felt.

Once he deemed himself ready, he lifted himself up onto his knees, taking a hold of Castiel’s thick cock at the base. He angled the thick head to the place he ached for it. And to think, he had never thought he’d be the one getting fucked here.

Their eyes met, and Dean was glad they had, Castiel’s beautiful blues were so intense, filled with so much care, so much lust, it made Dean moan. He let his weight do the rest of the work, slowly letting the head of Cas’s cock squeeze its way into his hole. The feel of him flared a desire in Dean, it bloomed like liquid heat, making him shudder. God, he wanted more…so much more!

Castiel grunted, gasping Dean’s name, unable to say anything else. Dean understood, he felt the exact same way.

He slid half way down Castiel’s cock, twitching at the sheer size of it, he put a hand on Castiel’s shoulders, steadying himself. He was adamant to take all of his lover, but he knew he would feel it in the morning. His eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth opened in a breathless gasp, he spread his thighs farther, wanting and needing Cas deeper inside him. He _wanted_ it. Sinking down a little deeper, he had to remind himself to breathe, exhaling a rush of air from his lungs when he slid all the way down.

Their eyes met, and Dean had a smug look on his face, shaky and triumphant for doing something he hadn’t thought he’d ever do. _Fuck, he felt so full._

Castiel’s grasp on his hip loosened, and that was when Dean felt the pinpricks of pain on his skin. Looking up he saw Castiel's jaw was set, as if he was holding himself back from taking what he wanted. Dean shifted a little, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was building up, and groaned at the feeling of Castiel’s cock twitching maddeningly inside him.

And after a moment of getting used to the feeling of being penetrated so deep, he began to move.

Castiel cursed, a language Dean didn’t know, but was eager to learn. He wanted to hear more, so he curled his hips a little more, lighting a sensation within them both that set them both in flames. Just a little rock of their joined hips pulled a string of curses out of his mouth.

Oh god… _good_ … _too good_ …

Castiel’s name was stuck on his tongue, it was all he could say as they moved, starting off slow and languorously, getting used to one another. He brought his hands to either side of Castiel’s face, cupping his neck, demanding Castiel look at him. Their eyes locked, blue meeting and penetrating into green. He saw the bridge of Castiel’s nose crease, when he moved up to thrust harder into Dean’s slickening hole. Dean’s cock dragged over their joined stomachs, creating yet another stream of curses to escape from Dean’s lips.

His mouth fell open, unable to take it anymore. Nostrils flaring, mouth curling into a whimper. Castiel’s grip hardened and he moved faster and faster. A feral noise came out of Dean, and he couldn’t believe he had made such a sound. He was far too weak, too vulnerable, letting Castiel do whatever he wanted.

For a scant moment, he was scared. Looking into those eyes however destroyed any sense of doubt and despair. This was Castiel, the man who loved him, took care of him, and he gave up trying to care about anything that wasn’t the sweet drag of that cock inside him, the feeling of those hands on his fingers, the sounds of Castiel’s moans and breathy pants.

Castiel came forward, throwing Dean onto the bed, leaning his weight on them. Dean whined as his cock glided back in, tentative yet strong. This new position allowed Castiel to surge in deeper. But Dean was ready, taking the deeper, stronger and downright _perfect_ thrusts as Castiel bottomed out into him. The muscles on his arms shifted, and Dean reached up, smoothing his palms over Castiel’s chest, over the mark, hearing him curse. He wrapped his legs around Castiel’s body, heels digging into his thighs, urging him deeper.

“You make such sweet sounds,” Castiel grunted, hearing Dean let out a slightly higher pitched sound as he twisted his hips and thrust in with a tilt.

Dean nodded, unable to speak, unable to think. Only feeling. Castiel’s nails dug into the mattress, the other hauling Dean up until he was arching up from the bed, fucking into him with such vigour. Dean yelped, there was just… _so…much…pleasure_.

But Castiel kept on going.

He grunted in that language once again, words tumbling out of his mouth. Praises, Dean recognised with the way Castiel was looking at him, the tone of it was praises. He battled against the self-loathing part of him that always told him he was worthless, he didn’t deserve someone as perfect as Castiel. But his lover silenced him, until he had no shame left.

There was only Castiel.

Somewhere in the chaos of his mind, he felt thick hand tunnel around his cock, working to add a little more pleasure.

“Cas!” Dean cried, the visceral sound of flesh slapping against flesh, fingers digging into skin, creating welts. There was so much more, so…oh god, please… He wanted to cum, he needed to…he couldn’t _think!_ His eyes opened wide, hearing the blood rush through him, and he came in between their pressed bodies. His back bowing onto the bed, body juddering, his mouth open wide, yet no sound escaping.

He felt two sharp points press into the curve of his shoulder and neck, Castiel, too lost in the delirium of it all, bit into his skin, growling madly. There was no more of that smooth, coordinated thrusting, neither was there any space left between their bodies. Castiel continued grinding into his oversensitive body, making him shudder, breath hissing.

Dean let him, groaning at how stuffed he felt. He knew he was letting out obscene noises, breathing erratic as Castiel continued. He plunged in deep, once, twice. He came, thick hot streams claiming Dean from the inside.

Dean gasped in air, feeling the tremors in his body as Castiel slipped out of him slowly, making him shudder at the over stimulation. He moved Dean’s boneless body until he fit on Castiel’s front, sealing a kiss on his lips as he did so.

“Mine,” he muttered into Dean’s hair, pressing a kiss to the damp with sweat strands. Dean nodded, too exhausted to reply in turn. But he knew Castiel understood as he tightened his arms around Dean’s middle.

Somewhere in the haze, he had managed to pull the blankets over them both, dragging the silky thickness over their weary bodies.

God, this was his life.

And he loved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she...wrote?
> 
> Thanks to all of you beautiful readers out there who commented and kudosed, I'd love to do my usual thanks to everyone, but I'm not sure this is fully over yet, so I'll leave that with a just in case.
> 
> Know that I love you all, and every single comment, kudos or passerby urged me to continue writing this.
> 
> Love you, awesome nerds!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think?


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